


Licorice and Mint - Book 1 - Part 2 - The In-Between Days

by elle_and_em



Series: Licorice and Mint [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Dungeons & Dragons References, F/F, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Themes, Original Character(s), Other, Punk Rock, Slow Burn, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27696109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elle_and_em/pseuds/elle_and_em
Summary: All it took was one night for Nat's life to change.  Unfortunately the rest of the world is determined to plod along at its own pace.  What's a bored Aasimar Doctor to do on a lazy Sunday morning?This work contains lyrics from The Cure, The Damned, Corpus Delecti, Bad Cop Bad Cop, Rise Against, The Smiths and Bikini Kill. All rights belong to the respective recording artists.
Series: Licorice and Mint [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1962421
Comments: 6
Kudos: 3





	1. The In-Between Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between work, her girlfriend, and living under the church's rules, Nat has been having problems keeping her divine fire in check. The only cure seems to be a song she heard over a week ago. Now if she could only remember the whole thing.

_“Go on, go on, Just walk away_

_Go on, go on, Your choice is made_

_Go on, go on,And disappear_

_Go on, go on, Away from here”_

_The Cure “In-between Days”_

======================================================================

The soft chirp of a cell phone alarm let Nat know that it was 6am. The summer sun was creeping slowly over the skyline of New Darpana Bay and Concordia Heights. Its yellow light slowly replaced the arcane glow that kept the streets and alleys in this part of town well lit. Normally, it was a beautiful way to wake up, except today. Nat had been awake since 5am with a splitting headache and she glared at her cellphone as though she was ready to hurl it out into the golden metropolis. 

She would have, if she wasn’t more engrossed by her appearance in the mirror. Bags under her eyes, and the glimmer from her radiant blue irises was non-existent. The sheen on her lavender skin and white hair had also dimmed in response to the pain. Then there was the near constant smell of brimstone, that she had been masking with the smell of jasmine or deodorant all week. Underneath her skin she felt a slowly increasing heat. A sign that she was very close to immolating, and possibly setting herself and everything around her on fire with golden flames. 

The healer took a deep breath and repeated a mantra in Celestial, a prayer to Shatrava, the Mother of Life, that her gift of a divine heart not be recklessly used and to grant Nat a moment of control over her fiery emotions. For a moment the pain and stress she was feeling settled down even if the heat under her skin did not. It was nice and tranquil. It reminded her of how good it felt to be among the great statues in the High Abbey, or sitting in the middle of an open field along the eastern side of the church campus. She thought of the smiles of all the Aasimar children of all castes that would greet her as Doctor Shaviantar, or even the look of love in her girlfriend’s eyes. The feeling of magic as it escaped her fingertips and erased illness, or sealed a wound closed.

That warm beautiful feeling of using magic to bring vibrant life back to some poor soul in pain. Like that half-orc woman a week ago. 

As the memory of her encounter with Vola replayed in her mind, the nagging voice of Mara chimed up breaking the rhythm of her mantra. Her beloved’s worried voice reminded her of her vows. To use no magic or born gifts while on her coming of age. To not partake in the joyous sights and sounds of the church. To bear the weight of her faith and convictions alone, against the constant greed of the outside world. How dangerous it was. How people would use her for just her talents, or shun her for being Aasimar, or...but...no. That didn’t make sense. 

The look of relief on Vola’s face. How good it felt to let her magic move again. What it was like on that nighttime drive in the front seat of a car with a punk rocker. The angry and proud sounds that she danced along to in her seat, as he took her on a tour. Finally letting her girlfriend know how frustrated she had been feeling. 

Then waking up the next morning to an email advising her that a vaccine shipment would be delayed and maybe cancelled. Her heart broke as she thought of all the people that would get sick without them. How people that needed help but had no insurance. The fact that she could even make their illness just vanish bothered her too. One spell. One simple healing spell could help so many in that room, but she couldn’t. She made a vow and that vow included the mantra she was uttering through gritted teeth. How many times would she trip over these promises?

  
These horribly, needlessly, complicated vows. Only the chanting helped, nothing else except...that song. 

“I-I got a new rose. I-I got it g-good. I-I always knew that...I..can’t stop to mess...around..…”

Her slender lavender fingers tightened around the edge of her sink, as she sank slowly to her knees. Nat tried to remember exactly how the song sounded, or all of the lyrics but for the past week all she could recall was the chorus. “I got a new rose. I got it good…f-ffffffffffuuuuuuuck!!”

The expletive exploded from her mouth as searing heat began to ripple in waves across her skin. She could feel the pressure of 6 burning hands trying to break out of her back and free themselves to express all of her unbridled love, anger, sadness, and desire. Years of training forced her back up to her feet and over to the shower where she twisted the porcelain knob for cold water, and jumped underneath the spray. She knew it wouldn’t do much against holy fire but the mental connection of water extinguishing flame would be enough. It was how she had stopped herself from bursting into flame, at least 4 times prior to this morning. 

As the “blessing” of her birthright retreated back into that sacred place inside her mind and her divine limbs ceased their attempts to free themselves, she laid on her back staring blankly up at the ceiling. She didn’t care that her pajamas were getting soaked or that it had become increasingly harder to hold back her anger. Only the repeating chorus of The Damned’s “New Rose” was on her mind. It was the only thing that brought her sanity over the past week, and now here it was, Sunday, her one day off and she was lying prone in her shower feeling lost for the first time in her life. 

Feeling safe that the moment had passed Nat, pushed up from the tub, and turned off the spray, stepping carefully out onto the bathmats before stripping down. There was that productive part of her mind that reminded her that though she could sleep in, or at least try now, she should do something productive with her day. Looking at the glittering skyline, she attempted to shrug off her angst, and wandered naked into her living room. A jolt of modesty reminded her to check if the blinds were closed on the massive bay windows, before stepping into the kitchen, finding all of her dishes clean, and a breakfast in the fridge ready to be warmed. The coffee maker was even gurgling with a fresh pot that had been prepared the night before. The living room was spotless and everything was dusted. Even the bathroom was as clean as a whistle. 

Dread replaced hope once again as she realized she had done all of this last night when she couldn’t sleep. She had even made the bed shortly after she was awoken by her headache this morning. There was nothing for her to do around her apartment, until her possible date with Maharashi that night. 

Above the mantle, an ornate white and gold clock, read 6:15, reviving the dull thud of her headache. Breakfast was no longer appealing and coffee would only make matters worse. Nat was still naked and struggled with why she would bother even getting dressed if all she could do was lay around and do nothing. Honestly it felt good right now. It felt freeing. 

She caught a glimpse of her body on the tv screen, and admired the curve of her breast or the smoothness of her skin or even how her long white hair just barely covered her butt. She wondered how good it would feel to share this moment with Mara or what it would be like to admire the other Aasimar’s naked body in this soft morning light. To see how her lavender legs would intertwine around her girlfriend’s silver arms, as she was pushed back down onto the couch. Or even how her soft pink curls would thread through her fingers while Mara’s lips locked around her clit and…

_“I told you before! We are not discussing this again! I made a promise to my father! I wear this ring as a promise to him! Until you replace it with one that bonds us as wives...if..if that’s even possible….! No! No Nataliyah we must remain chaste!”_

The fantasy dissolved in an instant as the memory of one of several arguments about their sex life or lack of, shattered her calm, making her head pound harder. 

“I got a new rose. I got it good….”, she muttered to herself as she went into the bedroom to get dressed. Clothes still felt pointless but being naked was going to do nothing but make her horny. Plus it was Sunday. That meant the clinic was closed, which meant no paperwork to distract herself with. No Morning Worship and Afternoon Vigils to pour her energy and focus into. And Mara hadn’t even said if she was coming over this weekend or not. In fact Mara had said precious little other than what felt like obligatory, “I love you” or “good Morning / good night.” in their text messages. While the thought of a weekend alone sounded fun, the reality was that it was boring and lonely.

There was literally nothing for Nat to do, except lay there and mutter the same words over and over. The thought crossed her mind to maybe look up the rest of the song, or even stream it on her phone, but the laptop and cellphone the church provided her, had very strict locks on streaming media, and firewalls that prevented her from accessing most of the things she was most interested in about this world...and porn. She really wanted to try porn at least once on her Rumspringa. 

She flopped belly-first on the bed and stared at the lapis lotus pendant she wore as a sign of her faith. “This can’t be all there is right? I mean you can’t seriously be telling me that my test of faith is boredom, headaches, and being so horny it physically hurts. I mean...you’re the Mother of Life. Great Shatrava who left this world to explore what was on the other side of the great mirror. Our divine mother who left stewardship of your gift that you shared with the other gods, in our hands. You can’t possibly expect those of your blood to abstain from the beauty that you helped weave. The art? The other cultures? The sex!? I mean...there’s a reason I’m even having these thoughts right? Right!?”

She paused for a moment, letting her protests and questions bounce around the room, before holding her breath and waiting for some divine sign that Shatrava had heard her. That maybe she would give her an answer. 

Nothing. She wasn’t surprised. Her Goddess hadn’t spoken directly to her children for hundreds of years. 

The Aasimar of Shatrava, knew their creator had left for some unknown realm to explore, and they knew she was still watching them from afar through the Great Mirror of the universe. The goddess had even granted her divine blooded children a shard of the mirror that let them each exalt and awaken magical powers within themselves. She left tasks and roles for each of her three children, so that her family would know an order and semblance to ensure that the other races or gods never abused the gifts of Life she had so lovingly woven from fate and nothingness. 

The Radiant, or the first born, interpreted Shatrava's word and learned to channel her grace through healing arts and magics. The Embered, who would embody her heart and passion, and enforce the word of Shavarasi, protecting its purity from without and within. Finally the Ashened, the youngest, who would sit by their mother’s side and hear her whispers as she slept. Who collected her secrets and ensured her words were kept safe from prying eyes. 

The smoldering headache and frustration reminded Nat of her heritage as an Embered, but she had always been pushed to behave and hold herself as a Radiant, like her mother, the Mother Superior of their church and leader of their kind. 

Rolling away from the pendant and thoughts about her goddess, the healer planted her face in a pillow and started to replay the memory of that night in her head again, poking around for anything that would spur her to unlock the rest, or maybe even another song. One of the ones that a girl sang. Well, less sang and more shrieked and roared. A flicker of satisfaction burned inside her heart at this. If only she could remember one...or even maybe see a picture of what one of those punk girls looked like. But...where? Its not like Tellis told her where to find punk music or even other punks.

Then it suddenly came back to her. The end of the night, as she reluctantly got out of the car, ears ringing and the surge of magic still pumping in her veins. She remembered Tellis’ relaxed smile, calling her Nat and thanking her. How good it felt to hear a shortened version of her name, like that was the only way he had known to call her. Then he passed over a slip of paper. She almost turned it away, apologizing and explaining she was gay, until he flashed a rainbow button on his denim vest and made a joke about how he was too. He pressed the paper in her hand. It was a list of bands, and an address...to...a store!!

The aasimar’s eyes popped open, and she scrambled along her bed across her room to the clothes hamper. Digging desperately, she prayed to Shatrava that the laundry was the one thing she hadn’t done in her boredom last night. To her relief she found the black slacks she was wearing a week ago and in the pocket was a slightly crumpled sheet of paper with the words “Summoner’s Sounds” underneath a list of bands and album titles. 

Slowly the tension in her head uncoiled and her skin cooled. This was the sign she was hoping for. The adventure and divine permission she secretly needed. As she clutched the list to her chest and hummed the melody of “New Rose”, she caught the scent of something on the pants. Something stale and damp. The musk of someplace dark and wet. It was what that woman smelled like when she came in demanding magical healing. The same tough warrior that slowly revealed someone scared and appreciative as Nat began to heal her arm. In a way she envied that woman. Brave enough to kill actual monsters, and risk herself to protect people, but still able to experience fear and sadness. Just like how she always envisioned her best self. The way she wanted to be seen as The Mother Superior one day. Brave and empathetic. 

As she started to pull on clothes, Nat whispered a soft hope that Shatrava’s threads were still strong and vibrant within her patient and maybe she’d run into Vola, while on her own adventure today. 

Her inner peace was fleeting though, as she glared at herself in the mirror after going through her closets. She had picked out the most casual clothing she owned and it still looked as if she was dressed "properly". Black leggings and white and purple running shoes, along with a large T-Shirt she wore when running, for modesty purposes. Not that modesty was something she cared about, but on the church campus that was a different story. 

Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail and she toyed with the idea of wearing her holy symbol out but wasn't sure they would let her in the store if she looked like some lost proselytizing church kid. She wasn't even sure she would be let into a punk record shop looking like this. She remembered some old photos of "punk culture" she saw in a TV ad for a clothing store. The women in the ad all had full heads of hair, no mohawks like Tellis. But they did have high ponytails and hung half of their oversized shirts off one shoulder, letting a bra strap show. 

In a flurry of motion she tugged at the shirt stretching the neck enough to awkwardly hang off one shoulder while hugging the other side of her neck, and adjusted her ponytail higher on her head. It was the most she could do for now. Grabbing her purse from the coat hook she headed downstairs to the front desk where she would order a maze car before stopping short of the door. 

She looked down at her phone with the Blue Holy Lotus background and was reminded of the “safety features” that had been installed on it. Due to her being a high profile member of the church, and the dangerous nature of her Rumspringa, certain additional rules had been put in place for her. Despite the clinic in a place that had a high level of need for medical care, the council did not want her to reside in or near that area. Instead she would have a rented apartment in a part of town with better security and less dangerous elements. She would also have a grocery delivery service set up, so she didn’t have to risk driving or public transit. Rent and utilities would be taken out of a stipend for living expenses as well. She was also required to carry a smartphone with tracking and security software that would prevent sensitive church information or communications from being hacked. 

This also meant that there was no excuse for her to leave the house or explore the city and her banking activity would possibly be monitored too. The security software also restricted content that she could look up on the internet, or prevented her from downloading any applications not approved by the church. Even the cable service that came with her apartment had nearly everything except for educational channels blocked. When she protested against all of these stipulations, she was given another lecture by Padri and the council about her status within the church, the kidnappings of young aasimar by the Le Quin who were on their own Rumspringas, and that such restrictions would help to strengthen faith by removing temptation. For Nat, this just translated into no porn, no culture, and no chance to eat badly. She didn’t understand the obsession they had with keeping her so separated from her clinic as well. They chose the location in the Lower Silk District for her. So why put her in an apartment across town, that easily cost a fraction of the operating budget of the clinic. How was any of this helping to test her will and resolve or even experience the hardships that adults had lorded over her for so long?

Looking down at the smartphone she started to question why she even bothered to carry it around on Sundays since only Mara texted her, and given their recent fights those had begun to slow down as well. The walls of her apartment started to close back in around her, and her casual clothing started to make her skin itch. That feeling of boredom and hopelessness she had just staved off started to creep back in. Why couldn’t she get back that feeling from the other night? Surely that couldn’t have been the only time she would be allowed to experience something other than work and rest during these trials. 

She fumbled with the folded list of punk bands, between her fingers when the sound scratching paper reminded her of something else that night. Vola had handed her a roll of cash, and she remembered the sound of the several hundred dollar bills she pulled off of it before passing it back over to the half-orc. That night when she got home she cleared out her pockets she put the cash in her sock drawer. The treatment was off the books, and she knew if she deposited cash into her account there would be questions. Literally no one knew about those bills except her. Everything except the digital receipt of her Maze Car fare that night had been untraceable.

“Like it never happened.”, she murmured to herself, wandering back to the bedroom and confirming the bills were indeed still there. As she admired the currency, she wondered how many things these bills had been used to purchase, or the number of hands they had passed between since their printing. No one would really be able to know, except for maybe an oracle or diviner, and even then that was possibly more information than specialists like that would ever care to subject themselves too. So these bills had effectively only been seen for what they were good for at the time of being spent. 

A bolt of inspiration struck her as she shoved the money back into the drawer, and looked down at her phone. She could still have her adventure and not have to justify it to anyone, much like how helping Vola that night was something no one was the wiser of. “Anything could have happened to me that night and they wouldn’t have known.” she muttered to the blue pendant on her dresser. “Just like right now. No one is watching or caring what I do in this apartment so long as I’m not using their phone or the things they are paying for to do it. Even Mara is in services and I’m not even sure she cares right now. Not like she’s really been listening to me, or my feelings. I mean...fuck...so long as they don’t see it, they don’t seem to care. I mean you even let me use my magic and bask in that music and I slept like a dream. You didn’t punish me or chastise me. In fact, it felt like...like I was doing what I was supposed to be doing.” She began to grin. “So tell me if this sounds crazy…”

Nat reached for a small safe in the back of her closet that contained some important paperwork, and her personal debit card. “My money. Not part of a stipend or a budget. My own savings. They can’t question how I use that.” She tossed her phone on the counter. “And its not like I’m gonna be using this for anything right now. She’s in service until about 1 or so and then its over to her dad’s for lunch and even then she’s late reaching out to me. Sooo this is just extra weight. Buuuut what about a car?” 

The hiss and growl of a city bus pulling up to the front of her building and then pulling away could be heard through the bedroom window. “Huh...guess that answers that question.”

=======================================================================

Nat was grateful that her headache had woken her early that day. It took about two hours to get downtown. More accurately it took about two hours for her to get help at the front desk to find the right bus to take, get a schedule, and then find an ATM to pull cash from. It was her first time ever taking public transit and despite the amount of running about she had to do, she was excited. After her fifth transfer however she understood why people on the bus kept to themselves and seemed largely grumpy. The amount of jostling and bumping that seemed to be involved with just getting through the vehicle as well as apologizing for people who bumped into her, started to bring her fire back up to the surface. When the driver finally called for the Upper Silks Market District, she nearly tripped over 3 people trying to get off the bus. 

A sudden rush of Vertigo hit her as the cool morning air and wake of bus fumes rolled across her heated skin. Clutching her purse close to her she leaned against the bus stop sign and pulled out the paper to figure out where she was supposed to go next. Confused by how familiar some of the landmarks looked, she looked down at the address for Summoner’s sounds and saw in the far distance the iconic blue lotus logo of her clinic. “Market Street?” she asked out, “You mean this place is in walking distance from work!?” Her voice was mixed with annoyance and excitement all at once. As she looked up the street, she could barely make out a black awning a few blocks down with a large musical note shaped rune tacked on to the side of the building. “By the Mother’s grace, I can’t believe this.”, she grumbled as she started to jog.

The fact that this place was so close to work bothered her. If she just been a bit more daring and explored more last week, she could have had “New Rose” out of her head and replaced it with so many other new songs. How many other local treasures was she surrounded by? A cursory look around pointed out a very odd looking diner on the perpendicular road, which t-stopped at the clinic. A large sign with simple cursive letters read, “The Diner”, and advertised “24/7 Breakfast Meals”. Her stomach rumbled, reminding the healer that she hadn’t eaten yet today, and maybe a trip to a restaurant would be a good way to start. Eating breakfast in a greasy diner...alone. Her appetite backed down for a moment. She wanted so badly to go out with Mara to a place like that. To be up until the wee hours of the morning, talking about the things that made them happy, as they enjoyed foods that they would never find on the church campus. Every time Nat brought it up, Mara shot it down. To be fair, there wasn’t a lot that she suggested that the other Aasimar didn’t reject immediately. Not just sex but anything that would possibly offend her dad or cause her to be ostracized even more than she already was. 

  
She felt bad that she couldn’t do more to heal her girlfriend’s trauma from her own Rumspringa or help her get the confidence to ignore what her father or the rest of the Aasimar thought. Despite all of her efforts, it felt like so little was helping. She even wondered if the other woman had even been taking her anxiety meds or going to therapy while she was gone. She wasn’t allowed to ask and Mara would yell if she did, so she chalked it up to one more trial of Shatrava to overcome. To her relief, the smell of french fries and battered fish wafting from a nearby cafe distracted her as she trudged up the sloping sidewalk towards the shop.

As she approached she could hear the muffled tones of something loud and punk like playing, followed by slow and dirge-like music when that song ended. The storefront looked simple and old. A black cloth awning with simple white lettering that read, “Summoner’s Sounds” while the runic musical note sign, showed inlays of neon tubing that was clearly long since dead. The front windows were dusty and filled with faded flyers for local organizations and bands. One or two prominently displayed rainbow triangles or the word “PRIDE” in all caps. Inside she could see it was mostly empty save for a few bodies milling around. On the door, a large piece of black poster board, taped on the inside, gave store hours and said very clearly, “No Racism, No Homophobia, No Transphobia, No Elitism, No Scene Drama.” While the first three items made her feel relieved, the last two confused her and made her wonder if there was the danger of being judged. 

Being criticized by her own kind was one thing. She’d become numb to it over the years, but outsiders? Would they really turn away someone who just wanted to learn and share? With a shaky hand she reached out for the door and pulled it open. The muffled dirge revealed itself to be a very angsty but bouncy tune, upon entry.  
  
 _We're so different, when I'm cold and silent_

_You're setting a fire to dry your heart"_

_They're jumping an dancing and loving and kissing on and on_

_They're dying and bleeding and hating and sighing on and on_

_"I take back my trust in you, I take my trust in you._

It wasn’t like the stuff that Tellis shared with her but it was still intriguing in its own way. The words pulled her into embracing these emotions and urges to dance wildly, while her divine fire purred at the expression of frustration and despair. It wasn’t punk but it felt close to it. As the song began to draw her in a frantic voice from some unseen part of the store yelled over the music. “Welcome to Summoner’s Sounds! Sorry! Only one here today! I’ll be with you in a bit!” 

  
The greeting snapped Nat from her daze as the door swing closed behind her in a clatter of bells and scraping metal. “I’m inside. No turning back now. This is happening.”, she thought to herself. Her heart began to beat a little faster and the temperature started to increase under her skin. The repeating chorus of New Rose started back up, clashing with whatever new band was now playing over the speakers. Something uptempo with lots of horns and male vocals. Motion from out of the corner of her eye revealed a half-orc dressed in a black and white checkered suit and thick square framed glasses, bobbing his head and dancing in place as he flipped through a box of records. 

  
There were several wooden tables filled with CDs and vinyl albums, all organized based on genre. A simple cardboard sign hung overhead directing new customers to the music racks or a clothing section. Next to her was a small table set next to the door covered in flyers and business cards promoting events and local artists. She noticed some bearing the same LGBTQIA symbols or the word PRIDE. She nervously picked one up about a LGBTQIA free clinic to be hosted later in the month, while another talked about voting “No” on a local city ordinance and how it would negatively impact sex workers. Another flyer had the picture of a half-naked Tiefling woman, in the middle of slowly taking off a corset, advertising an amateur burlesque night, promising laughs and lust from some of the newest talent in New Darpana Bay. The divine heat that had begun to build up, spiked for a moment. She wanted so badly to maybe go to this. Maybe even see what burlesque was and if it meant also seeing this woman naked or…  
  
“Sorry about that! Welcome to Summoner’s Sounds! How can I help you today?”

Nat jumped, dropping the crumpled list and flyer on the ground, as an Elven man with ebony skin, and a tall white mohawk appeared in front of her. Several small silver rings lined his long pointed ears, with wide crystal gauges in his lobes. He was wearing a black sleeveless t-shirt that read ‘Sex Pistols’ in fading white letters, tight red checkered pants, and white canvas sneakers. Around his neck was a tight black collar with an o-ring dangling in the middle. His grey eyes were warm, and welcome as he greeted her with a wide smile. 

She looked down frantically scanning for her missing paper, when she saw it and the flyer had landed at the feet of the strange elf. “Ah um...well I’m here cause someone said you had punk music and i um….well there’s a list…” Seeing another punk dressed correctly, in comparison to her own failing attempt at looking casual and edgy, made her want to run out, screaming that this was all a mistake. However that urge was blocked by the clerk bending over and passing her list and the flyer back to her, while gesturing back towards the racks behind him.

“Lemme guess, first time here?”

The healer nodded and stammered for a moment as she swept the store again for anyone else hoping that no one else had seen her clumsy entrance. Besides the dancing Half-Orc, the only other customer was a gnomish woman standing on a stepstool flipping through a rack of clothes marked “clearance”. A secondary objective emerged in her mind, that set her fashion discomfort at ease. _“Buy something to help fit in better.”_ , she thought, as the Elf waited patiently for a response. “Um...uh yeah. First time. Um...I...I’m not really sure what to ask for but...um...someone gave me a list and there’s this song that’s stuck in my head and I need to get it out”

A good-hearted chuckle came from the clerk. “Well, I can definitely set you up with some new music but what song in particular?” His shining eyes made her shrink in embarrassment at the thought of having to explain the song she wanted, but this was the only way forward. She had already crossed into this bizarre subculture, so why not just be a bit more brave. “Um...it kinda goes like, ‘I got a new rose I got it good. Guess that I always knew I would.”

“The Damned!”, he exclaimed. “Wow. That’s a deep cut too. Who played that gem for ya?”  
  


“Tellis!”, she blurted out. “His name is Tellis and I dunno but I really need some help getting whatever has that song on it, as well as what’s on the list.”

  
The Elf skimmed over the paper once more. “Tellis huh? He would throw a newbie in the deep end. Isn’t one to embrace the new stuff, and loves to hit ya with the classics. Well...I guess no better way to start.” He looked up from the list to see her face twisted in confusion. “Sorry. Sorry. I got some listening stations in the back and most of what’s on here in stock. How about we go on back, pick some of these out and go from there?”

  
Nat brightened up at the suggestion. “So like, I just sit there and listen and that’s it?”

  
“No other way, in my opinion. Buyer beware and all that. Gotta make sure the right sounds leave in the right hands too. Personal point of pride there.” A gnarled and thin ebony hand jutted forward. “Name’s Wali.” 

  
“Nat.” she said quietly, shaking the offered hand. “Thanks. This is all so new and I dunno...so thanks.”

  
“No worries. Glad to help one more person lose themselves in the sounds of rebellion, self-expression, and good hard mayhem. That said, no fucking clue why he picked some of these for an introduction to punk.”   
  
Wali led Nat towards the back of the store where there were stereo systems with CD decks, and vinyl players with thick corded headphones setup along a wooden bar. Handwritten signs warning against food and drink, and shoplifting were taped to the wall partially covering some faded and torn posters. He pulled a barstool out from underneath and fished a sealed alcohol wipe from his pocket, handing it to her. “Here ya go. I’ll go grab a few of these and let you get comfy and sterilized. Make sure to wipe in the earpieces as well. Don’t risk it.” Grabbing an empty plastic milk crate from nearby he walked back towards the shelves and cases of music. “CD or Vinyl?” he asked.

  
“I have a player that does both, so whatever sounds best I guess?”

  
He thrust his hand up with an OK sign, and she quickly cleaned the headphones with the sterile wipe. While she waited, the music changed again to something that sounded a bit harder and faster. It reminded her of some of the classic rock from the 50’s and 60’s that the church was okay with people listening to, but it was different. It didn’t sound wholesome or generic. It was raw, and full of swearing and references to sex. As the chorus played, the sounds of a car screeching its tires and racing commentary could be heard in the background. From the clothing rack the tiny gnome woman quietly sang along flipping through dresses and shirts quickly. 

  
After a minute or so more of searching for some buried treasure, the customer gave up, hopping off the stool and headed towards the door, waiving at Wali. Nat watched as she left, trying to digest yet another new music genre, when the clatter of something plastic came from the clearance rack. From her seat she could see a pool of black cloth and a clear plastic hanger laying on the ground. 

  
Shaking her head and letting her sense of responsibility take over, the Aasimar slipped off her seat and went to put the shirt back on the rack when she stopped to take a closer look at it. It was a large black tank-top with large red lettering that read, The Nekromantix. The shirt featured a red bordered image of an undead man playing a coffin shaped standing bass. Something unnerved her about the image but also intrigued her. The Church’s stance on necromancy and the undead was well documented. Playing with death magic and making undead was an international crime but to the Church, it was an affront to Shatrava and considered punishable even if the transgressors did not fall in their legal jurisdiction. Nat never figured out just what that entailed, only that Padri would change the topic when she brought it up.  
  
  
Still the shirt felt right to her. It wasn’t a sign of blasphemy. It was a funny picture and clever pun. She imagined herself walking around in the loose fitting top with no bra. How comfy and freeing it would feel. The jersey fabric slid easily beneath her fingers registering a warm sensation in her chest. She wanted this, but Mara would raise a shit fit if she found it. She may even go so far as to demand Nat burn it or even try to destroy it herself.  
  
  
Reluctantly, Nat put the shirt back and flipped through the rack trying to ignore her urges. She was so curious but not enough to fight with her girlfriend over it. Still her secondary goal pushed her to flip through the clothing a bit longer. She should try to find something “punk’ to wear. Maybe there was something a bit more “Church” appropriate that would still help her fit in.   
  
  
“But what am I fitting into right now?”, she asked herself quietly.  
  
  
After a moment or two digging, she picked a white t-shirt with a pair of sunglasses printed on it that simply said, The Smiths. Holding it up over her sweater, she imagined herself in it, taking some solace in the fact that the fitted tee would show off her curves a bit more. Her thoughts kept wandering back to the Nekromantix T-Shirt that brought her over in the first place. She started to flip back towards the forbidden garment when Wali’s voice from behind startled her. 

“I got you set up, if you wanna come over”, he said. He glanced at the shirt now held tight in her grasp. “Oh! The Smiths! That reminds me, they weren’t on your list and I was gonna suggest it. I think you’d dig it maybe. Bit lighter in tone but just as political and angry.”

“Yeah this seems cool, but um...did you maybe also have something called, The Nekromantix?”, she asked cautiously.

The elf raised an eyebrow, and smirked. “Punk and Psychobilly huh? Yeah I’ll get you some while you listen to what I got set up. Come on over.”

Nat nodded wordlessly and followed him back to the listening station. She got 3 steps away from the rack before a surge of heat under her skin turned her around to retrieve the black blasphemous tank top. If she didn’t like the band she could put it back right? No harm holding on to it for now.

======================================================================

The next two hours were full of 30 second snippets of the various bands that Wali brought out. A growing pile of CDs and Vinyl were set aside as immediate purchases, while a second pile of “maybe’s” was growing just as quickly. The Best Of The Damned, was the first in the stack, since the band had such a large back catalog, while other acts like The Sex Pistols, Dead Kennedys, The Exploited found their way into the assortment nicely. Feeling a lot more brave and excited by what she had discovered, Nat asked about bands that were fronted by women or were all women, which made Wali’s smile grow even wider. “Ohhh! Of course Tellis would forget to add some Riot Grrl to the list. Hang on.”   
  
From everything Nat had heard up until that point, she knew her initial ideas about Punk Rock were correct. Just hearing “New Rose” again made the song play even louder in her head, but now it was catharsis, and not an earworm. Some of the other bands were hit or miss but she lost herself in the sounds of anger, and change and protest. They stoked the long burning embers of her want and need to make change happen. To push the church into the modern world, like it or not.. This was a musical space painted in colors of red and black and white. All of these silly rules and barriers to achieving her goals turned from concrete to wet paper. She had the power and intent to make these things happen. She just needed to say “Fuck Off” to everything and everyone standing in her way and say it loud enough that even the people in the back of the abbey could hear her.   
  
The Anger and fire she had been told to repress had finally found a voice and shape and nothing had felt so right in her world...that is until the moment Wali put in a CD from a band called Bikini Kill.  
  
The now familiar barrage of drums and gnashing guitar, hammered in her ears as she scrunched her face up for a moment, as if sampling a new dish. Wali stood nearby with a look on his face like an expectant chef, offering up what he thought was a gourmet meal. His pensive look melted away, as Nat’s eyes widened at the sound of Kathleen Hannah’s rough and passionate voice joining the raucous mix. The musical world of Red and Black and White blossomed into a full blown rainbow as the song kicked up into its chorus.

_"Rebel girl! Rebel girl! Rebel girl you are the queen of my world!”  
  
  
_ Lavender hands scrambled to sort through the new offerings tossing them into the CD player or onto the turntable scanning each track for a few seconds basking in a feeling of empowerment that she hadn’t felt since the moment she came out publicly as gay. L7, Bratmobile, Bad Cop Bad Cop, and Picasso Trigger all found their way into the “Buy” stack that was quickly filling up a second milk-crate. Wali would come over occasionally and offer a bit of musical history or trivia about specific bands or evolutions in the sound, as well as pointing out how some of her favorites weren’t necessarily punk but were of genres birthed from punk, such as Grunge, Post-Punk, and Industrial.   
  
  
Softer selections such as The Smiths, and The Cure were welcome additions and helped take the edge off her fire, still reacting to all this musical energy, while albums from Siouxsie and the Banshees, or The Silversun Pickups just sounded nice even if they didn’t have the same spark to them. When she finally got around to the Necromantix she nearly fell off of her stool from dancing in place so hard. It wasn’t some dark and evil rock band, as she worried it would be. It was dumb and campy songs about monsters, and cheap horror tropes. Wali gave her a concerned look, which she waved off before dropping the needle down onto a Killing Joke full-length album.

========================================================================

It was nearly noon, when Nat finally stood at the counter as Wali tallied up her purchases. She rocked nervously on her heels, watching the black jersey tank top and white Smith’s t-shirt find their way into the bag along with a pride flag patch, some buttons, and more music than she had originally intended to buy. A poorly-hidden gasp of disbelief escaped the elf’s lips as he read off her total. “That’s um…$245.67.”, he said quietly.  
  
  
Trying not to think too much about the cost, Nat dug out several bills from her purse, and passed them over. As he made change, the old elf coughed a few times and rubbed his goatee. “I mean...call me an idiot for turning down a sale like this but um, you know you could have vetted half of these things on your phone before dropping all this cash. Not a lot of people throw down for physical media these days unless its for sentimental or collecting reasons.”  
  
  
  
The reminder of her useless smartphone, took the bounce out of her step for a moment. “Oh um...I know but, my phone um...can’t stream music.”  
  
  
  
“Wow...that sucks. I get it though. Just saying that for what you dropped today you could get one that does.”

Nat raised an eyebrow. “Really?”   
  
  
  
A skeptical look crossed the elf’s face as he seemed to study his customer with a bit more attention than before. She swore she could feel waves of magic rolling over her, but couldn’t hear or sense where it was coming from. Wali’s shoulders relaxed as he leaned against the back of the counter. “Yeah. Phone place down the block has ‘em. Just sayin’. You seem like someone who is gonna be a repeat customer, so I don’t mind passing the wisdom along. Something tickles your fancy? Give us a call and we can see if we have it in stock or order it for ya. I hate buyer’s regret, myself but we don’t do refunds here, get me?”

“Oh. Yeah. I understand.” She chewed her thumb as she pulled the shopping bag off the counter. “So um...would they also sell phones that would let you play videos or maybe surf the web?”

“Should.” 

“Cool cool.” She said, nonchalantly. Suddenly she was reminded of how little she knew about this world and there was a burning embarrassment that pushed her to play off his cool demeanor. “I’ll um...I’ll hit them up, and um...thanks again. See you around.”  
  
  


Making her way to the door she stopped at the flyer table once more. The image of the half-naked Tiefling woman giving her pause before the reminder of all the social outreach and charity she hadn’t been able to do with her clinic was spelled out in the adverts and business cards surrounding the little beacon of lust. She had already pushed herself to buy that shirt, and so many other things that made her feel good. Maybe she should take the flyer, enjoy it for later or learn more about what burlesque was or…  
  
  
  
“Oh hey! Dammit! Thanks for reminding me!” Wali’s voice interrupted her train of thought. “I meant to say, I also run the local club, The Screeching Weasel. Lotta bands come through and if you wanna really experience the full power of some of what you bought, there's no better way than live.” He walked over to the table and passed her a large flyer with block lettering and a blurry picture of someone screaming into a microphone. 

_Sunday Funday @ The Screeching Weasel_ _  
__Featuring Rise Against and TBD.  
_ _$10.00 at the door  
_ _18+ to Enter / 21+ (ID Required to Drink)  
_ _Doors at 9pm. Bands at 10.  
  
  
_ She looked up at the store clerk confused.   
  
  
“It’s tonight. Short notice, but based on what you dug today, I figured they may be up your alley.”  
  
  
“Oh.” Nat looked at the flyer and the idea of a live show hadn’t even crossed her mind. She was already feeling overwhelmed with the plethora of things she bought, and the nagging sensation that a shopping trip like this wasn’t really helping her long term goals, but it was helping her. But going to a live show? “Oh um...well I mean. I would like to but I have work tomorrow.”  
  
  
“No pressure. No pressure.” He waved his hands. “Just a suggestion. If you go buy a phone, give them a listen. If you don’t make it to the show? No biggie. Always got a full stage and something loud coming from it. Just keep an eye and ear out.”  
  
  
  
Nat nodded and stuffed the flyer into her bag, along with the burlesque advert she had been holding on to the whole time. A pulse of modesty pushed her to justify her action. “I can um...take more than one of these right? Like if I wanted to get to know the local music scene more?” She waited for Wali to shrug and nod before grabbing one of each of the items off the table and scurried out the door with a hurried wave back, beelining in the direction of the phone store. 

=========================================================

After a stop in the electronics store, and another triple digit purchase, Nat felt her stomach and blood sugar rebel. She hadn’t eaten breakfast or had any caffeine, and the lack of both was starting to catch up to her. She thought about going back to the diner near the clinic, but after the liberating high she had been enjoying so far, she wanted to avoid any reminder of her responsibilities for a bit longer. Instead she chose to stop by the fish and chips place she saw earlier, before being drawn to a brightly colored hut offering “Sexy Coffee”. A tanned half-elf girl with curly red hair, in a bright green bikini, took her order and cheerfully asked about her day. , Nat started to reply when he noticed her bending over to find something in a mini-fridge or standing on a stool, giving flashes of side-boob, or the slightest glimpse of her vagina as she reached for syrup offerings on a high shelf.   
  
  
She found even the simplest of replies impossible as the heat of her libido returned. Why couldn’t she keep her cool? She came here specifically for this experience right? Plus it was just flirting and not anything more. Its not like she was cheating on Mara. Every time she felt an ounce of courage emerge, another glimpse at the girl’s “show” reduced her to a blushing mess again. At the end of the transaction, she muttered a flustered thank you and shoved a twenty dollar bill towards the barista, lookin for somewhere to eat away her embarrassment.  
  
  
She settled on a stone picnic table outside of a closed cafe', cramming the salty battered fish into her mouth, while slurping back a hot orange mocha in between swallows. The responsible part of her cringed at the amount of grease and carbs she was inhaling, but the adventurer was loving every moment of this daring feast. It was the first time she had anything “unhealthy” to eat. Even the pizza and junk food on the campus leaned to the healthy side of things, which begged the question of if it was junk food at all. As with the music, and the phone, this cheap lunch was anonther act of rebellion. Actual junk food. She greedily dipped wedges of fish into plastic cups of tartar sauce and dragged thick cut fries through a pile of ketchup. Her first taste of “real” food made here in Endib, and it was...adequate?   
  
  
It did a fine job of filling her empty belly, while the coffee did it’s part to caffeinate her. She had hoped for all of the allure and spectacle of purchasing the drink from the tantalizing stand, it would come with an equally exciting taste. Instead it was cheap, and very bitter with only faint hints of orange underneath it. She vaguely remembered even agreeing to 4 shots, which should have given her more of a rush. All it did was leave her with the dread of a sugar headache to come. 

Sucking back the last of her drink, she started to fish through her shopping bag, sorting through the myriad of CDs, Albums, and clothing. At the bottom of it, she glanced over her new Pay-As-You-Go Smartphone and fought the urge to program and turn it on now. The clerk had told her to give the phone a good charge before activating it and make sure there was WiFi nearby. “Soon.” she told herself, digging further into the bag seeking a distraction while she let the heavy meal settle. 

Smiling up from the bottom of the bag was the burlesque advertisement, and the edges of the stack of adverts she grabbed on her way out for LGBTQIA Organizations, Mental Health Support, Food Co-ops, Holistic Healing or even Pro-bono legal representation. She flipped through them in hopes of finding some other excuse to continue her adventure. Some other hidden inspiration that would help unravel the knot of creative frustration inside her. What she found were names and numbers offering things she hoped her clinic would help with or at least support. She had made no secret of using her coming of age to create a bridge between the Church of the Nakashtra and New Darpana Bay. She would bring the city medical care and innovation that it desperately needed, while simultaneously educating herself on how better to bring inclusivity and equal rights for queer Aasimar back to their isolated campus. 

However she had made zero progress on any of her goals in the two months she had been open. Any pitch or request to begin community outreach were deflected with lectures about her responsibilities for the clinic and staff first. Then the first budget cuts were announced after her second week. Supplies were not as plentiful as promised, and there were half-hearted apologies with no assurances to rectify the mistakes. The vaccine fiasco was just one more disappointment, and the Aasimar wondered why it had bothered her so much, when she figured she should have been used to the bad news that conference calls inevitably brought with them. She hadn’t even been surprised when the insurance claims and public aid forms she sent to the billing office repeatedly came back as rejected. 

Nat bit her lip and rubbed her temples as she scanned an advert for Local Medical Aid. She toyed with the notion of bringing this back to the office and pushing to ally with this organization, if the church wouldn’t accept private insurance or government aid, but if they wouldn’t take money from them, what made her think they would partner with a non-profit? She chewed angrily on a cold french fry, as she couldn’t escape this idea that money of all things was preventing her from making a difference.

Traffic had nearly slowed to a crawl after many patients realized the church’s benevolence was as mythical as the magic they purportedly used. This of course, justified the council’s decision to call back three nurses and almost all of the clerical staff. A dull headache started to form as she remembered the stack of paperwork that now fell on her to process, and how it all had to be done after hours. No one left in the clinic had half the training she had, and it felt like she was the only person even working there anymore. Everyone else were just other Aasimar, annoyed at their new assignments, hoping their names would be on the next staff recall list. 

  
The only thing worse than the lack of faith from her peers, was the look of disappointment on patient’s faces, when an 18 year old, fresh-faced woman came into the room, calling herself ‘Doctor’. The disbelief in her skills cut deep, even though she knew it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her fault they expected her to be 30 or 40 years old, or they knew nothing of how the Children of Shatrava were prepared for their roles.   
  
  
The Church of Nakshatra utilized special enchantments and magicks that allowed their youth to absorb knowledge at an accelerated rate. Most Aasimar knew exactly what their place within the Church was by age 13, and within a matter of years were considered fully-trained and ready to serve. Their success was celebrated with an awakening Ritual that unlocked the special gift of their caste that reflected their lineage from Shatrava. Thanks to her mother, Nat was trained intensely in both medicine and magic much earlier than most children, because of the future role she would one day fill. Due to this, she was considered one of the more experienced healers, since she had been practicing capably as a physician’s assistant since she was 14.  
  
  
  
But none of that mattered to the people who came into the clinic. They only saw some upstart church girl from a place lauded for their medical innovations and magical healing, neither of which she could provide to them. They saw a failure and a waste of time. As she read over a postcard educating the reader about Protesting Rights, shoving the last of her soggy fries into her mouth, she realized how far she had fallen from her ideal self. Everything had become about keeping the clinic open. She had no fight left to try and make a change.

The fire lit by several hours of punk music sank back into the depths of her mind along with the simmering divine fire she had been holding at bay. The smiling face of an Orc woman, on a flyer promoting a donation drive dredged up memories of the night where she broke the rules to make a difference, even if it was more bending than breaking. That night she found the balance between her oaths as a healer and the oaths of her trial. But that was just one special case, out of the countless hopeless ones that preceded it. What   
  
  
  
“Not like I even have a choice. Magic’s all that's left. Fucking supply shortage.” she grumbled, turning to throw her empty food container and cup away. As she stood up a strong gust of wind from a passing car sent the pile of fliers and literature flying. Nat scrambled to grab the papers, missing one that plastered itself against a light post. Pulling it off, she saw another flyer underneath that piqued her curiosity. The advert itself was simple and contained no graphics or phone numbers or even clever writing. Just who and what. However, to Nat, it may have been a divine message placed here just for her.   
  
  
_Innani’s Trunk_ _  
__Herbal Remedies, New Age Charms, Tarot Reading & More. _ _  
__2132 Market Street. NDB_

Herbal remedies. Her eyes read the words over and over as the rebel grrl inside her began to dare to dream again. A simple and powerful solution but also one that walked a very hazy line.   
  
  
  
Because they could not lay claim to any patent or copyright on folk cures, the Church of Nakshatra didn’t endorse or openly teach herbalism. It made no sense to Nat since she knew that the basis for much of their pharmaceutical success was rooted in Herbalism and Alchemy. And they had not actually forbade her from learning or practicing such things, in fact a base understanding of Alchemy was required reading for history classes. Wouldn’t it be the responsible thing to see how the outside world has adapted these ancient arts? Show here another avenue of care to offer?

She smirked with satisfaction as she decided that a talk with the owner couldn't hurt. If “Innani" was a local business owner with the same goal of offering aid to people, surely they could help each other out. As she turned away she saw another flyer, advertising a local Adult Novelty store offering tools and toys to enhance one’s love life. A purr of shaky confidence bubbled to the top of her mind along with memories of the barista’s perfume and the Tiefling dancer. 

“Well I mean...since it seems like I’ll be heading that direction anyways.” Nat said to herself, deciding to add one more new experience to her extended shopping trip.. 

============================================================


	2. Its Just My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nat's new outlook on the world is tested as she explores an option to help complete her training as a healer. Can this new found love of Punk Rock, coexist with her Girlfriend or her faith? What about what the rest of the Lower Silks feels about the Church's presence on their streets? 
> 
> This work contains lyrics from The Cure, The Damned, Corpus Delecti, Bad Cop Bad Cop, Rise Against, The Smiths and Bikini Kill. All rights belong to the respective recording artists.

_Who are you to think you can judge me?_   
_I am who I am and that's what I want to be_   
_So shove your lables_   
_We'll flip your tables_   
_And we won't apologize for causing a scene_   
_Yeah yeah yeah_

_Bad Cop Bad Cop - It's My Life_

===========================================================

She had hoped Innani’s Trunk would be an easy and casual experience, but stopping at the sex shop beforehand had proven to be a mistake. Despite the burst of hormones and courage she had after lunch, she found herself barely able to do anything more than stand in the doorway frozen by the myriad of sexual aids displayed openly on the wall. Nat had always known that “marital aids” existed but finding them on campus was nigh impossible, and she herself had learned to make due with a shower head or fingers. Suddenly faced with a cornucopia of ways to get off, mere feet away from her wallet and shopping bag was more than she could handle. As a bright eyed halfling woman in a t-shirt bearing the store’s name approached her, she blurted out “Sorry” and darted out the door, straight to Innani’s Trunk. 

The herbalist’s shop was the very picture of something out of a period novel. A simple cottage design, with large curved window featuring an eclectic display of tarot cards, crystals, and jars of dried plants neatly arranged on fading dark blue velvet. Beyond the window dressing, she could make out dark wood shelves filled with books and other bobbles. The shop’s name was painted on the window, surrounded by various Sylvan, Celestial, and Elvish runes. While it wasn’t uncommon to see Sylvan or Elvish, the inclusion of Celestial in the artwork got the young doctor’s attention. The only other place she had seen her native language was in church correspondence. So why was it up here? 

She pulled the heavy wooden door open, and was greeted by the song of metal bells on a string. The musk of several incenses assailed her nose. It was like being back in the High Abbey, in fact the mixture of scents was eerily close. She took a tentative step inside, and was impressed to feel her foot crush against soft carpet and not hardwood. Everything about the store made her feel at home. The curve and size of the old bookshelves, and the freestanding racks filled with talismans and charms on chains or prayer flags, or bundles of white sage. The shyness that froze her in place at the sex shop melted away, as she wandered down one of the aisles reading the spines on Astrology books. 

“Hello!?” A woman’s voice with a thick accent from some place Nat couldn’t put her finger on, echoed from a back hallway. “I am so sorry! I will be up in a moment!”

“Uh...Hi! Are you Innani?”, Nat shouted back. “I’m really just browsing but thank you!” 

An amused chuckle came from the back of the shop. “Yes, I am, and very few find their way here without having something in mind, even if they don’t know what it is yet! Almost done! Just waiting on the tea!”

The Aasimar digested the cliched bit of wisdom as a deep and musky scent began to waft through the air. Something with chamomile but also something damp...no..fungal? Or was that actually ginger root with some other scent she couldn’t place. The mystery scent buried in herbal tea bugged her. She found herself passing a wall display with pre-packaged tea samplers with professionally made logos and packaging. She reached out to pick through the rack but stopped. What she was smelling wasn’t something anyone just packaged up...or wait...how did she know that for sure? She shook her head clear of the trivial mystery and reoriented herself towards the bookshelves again.

Above her were laminated signs hanging from the bottom of shelves denoting what each section focused on. DIY Arcana, Theories of Magic, Collections of Origin Myths, New Age healing practices, and books on folk magic or divination. Nothing on what she was really looking for so far. “Um...well I guess you could say I am here trying to find some good guides or information on alchemy and herbalism.”

The sound of an harried breath could be heard from a space not too far beyond the tall shelves she was wandering through still. “I see. Well those are broad topics, and we do carry a variety of resources but what are you wanting to use that knowledge for?”

“For healing.”, she said with a tinge of excitement. She stepped out from the book section into a more open area of the shop where there was a glass and wood counter wrapped around one corner of the room, with a hallway leading to the back, and a greater assortment of carved idols, ritual magic tools, and a wall full of jars containing dried plant leaves, powders, and viscous fluids. 

Behind the counter was a tall pale woman with long black hair, and sharp features, dressed as though she had stepped out of a Yoga Studio poster. She was elegant and refined in her demeanor and posture, but dressed in cream colored flowing pants and top and hair wrapped partially with a green scarf. Her keen brown eyes seemed to dig straight through Nat as the spark of warmth she held towards her customer suddenly vanished. 

Taken aback by the chilly reception the doctor raised her hand and waved. “Hi! My name is Nat, or um...Doctor Natalyiah Shavia-”  
  
“I know who you are.” She folded her arms and refused to break eye contact with the Aasimar. “Why are you here?”

“Uh...um...so you know I work up the street then?” Nat asked hopefully. “Sorry its taken so long to say hi to the neighbors.” She joked weakly. “Well...um, as I said I’m here to see what I can find on herbalism and alchemy, mostly for healing purposes and,” *She looked back towards the shelves. “I can’t seem to find the books on…”

“You still haven’t answered my question.” The woman said calmly. “Why is a doctor of the Church of Nakashtra in my shop?”

The tea started to sting her nose the longer it steeped. That unknown herb nestled beneath the fungal component and chamomile grew stronger. “I just said. I am here to find…”  
  
“Secrets?”, the woman interrupted. “I know why you say you are here, but you would honestly have me believe that there’s some missing component of your education nestled here in my store?” She narrowed her eyes. “What you are looking for you won’t find. Not here.”

Nat waved threads of steam that seemed to be creeping towards her from the mug. “But just now...in the back you told me that very few come into your shop without some idea of what they are looking for, and I’m honestly just trying to get some information. That’s all I want.” When the shopkeeper’s pose didn’t relax she took a deep breath and suddenly felt the true motivation of her hunt wrench itself from her throat. “See, I need to know if there’s a way to cure petrification without magic.” She slapped a hand over her mouth in shock, eliciting a smirk from the other woman.

“A cure for petrification?”, she echoed back, voice lace with disbelief. “Surely you have some new pharmaceutical or maybe a spell for that don’t you?”

“Well um..I er...no drug for it,and sure there is magic but..”

“There you go then. You found your cure. Have a good day.” The woman took a sip of the acrid smelling tea and waved Nat away towards the exit. 

“No, I haven’t! Magic’s not the answer. I need something else?”  
  
The tea mug clacked loudly onto the countertop. “So you refuse to use magic, and have no medicine for it, so you’ve come to harass me for the answer? Say I help you, how long until your new miracle cure comes out and we are barred from selling anything that could possibly cure Petrification, a malady that I would say is one of the worse examples you could have come up with for your flimsy excuse for spying There have been no known cases of petrification in nearly a century, and anything that could inflict it is most certainly not in the city and by all accounts of modern biology, extinct.”

Nat reeled. Something about the tea was making her fire react. That temper and pride that now had a voice. A loud angry rebellious voice. 

“Spying? I’m not here to spy!” 

“Then tell me Doctor Natalyiah Shaviantar, just what are you doing here? Because it is most certainly not healing with either medicine or magic. Word travels quickly here and the ‘benevolence’ of Shavatra’s servants rarely reaches out to those who can’t fill their coffers with cash, and if they do it is to pluck more secrets of life away from those who need care.”  
  
“But I am trying! I’m trying to help!”  
  
“So why are you not in your clinic today? Do you think Sunday is a day no one gets sick? If you truly wanted to care for those that need care, you should be in your office tending to the needy and not interrupting my work day.”

Nat knew she should turn and leave. Everything about this woman told her this wasn’t worth risking her career. She knew many distrusted the Church for the same reasons Innani had just cited, but being accused of stealing? The church was tight on NDA’s for their own innovations but they never went after non-Aasimar. Right? 

“Because I can’t open on Sunday’s. It’s against the rules.”, she replied quietly.

“And your rules allow you to be here?”

“No. Not necessarily.”

“So….” The human took another long sip of tea. “...you aren’t supposed to be here Your clinic isn’t supposed to give free care to the needy, and you can’t use magic. Are you just here on vacation? Is that it young Aasimar? That this is all just play for you? Is that your cover?”

“Cover? I...I what?” Nat tried to focus under the pull of the odor. “No. I am trying my best to heal but I can’t. Not as well as I should be able to.” The impassive stare of the other woman only infuriated her more. Digging into her purse she carefully pulled out the stony fang Vola had left her. She knew it was a stupid idea but all she could think about was proving herself for some reason.  
  
“See! This is from a Basilisk! Not a fossil! A real fang! Don’t tell me that petrification here isn’t a myth! I know it! I’ve seen it!” She stepped towards the counter, holding the tooth in front of her like a holy symbol. “I need to know how to fix it!”

Innani’s stony expression broke, as she reached out with a free hand to push the Aasimar’s wrist down, hiding the fang. She hissed. “Put that away!”

“So you know what it is?”

  
“Yes!” The shopkeeper snapped back. “And if you did find someone who was afflicted with that kind of a bite then you also know that there are some things you do not speak of openly here!”

Nat wrenched her hand free and put the fang back into her purse carefully. “So I was right? There is a cure.”

Innani moved to step out from behind the counter and stepped between Nat and the book shelves. “I never said that, and even if there was, you still have given me no good reason to speak of it in front of a church agent.”

“I’m not an agent. I’m a doctor!” Nat rebutted.

“That is not what I hear from my customers. I hear the same thing I have heard every time you and your kind deign to step out from your ivory walls. Promises to reach out and become part of this world again and ease the suffering of the poor, and then within months.. “ she snapped her fingers. “...gone again. The fact that you come in here asking me for some exotic remedy instead of explaining why my customers are coming to me demanding more of my Flu Remedy tea, speaks volumes as to what kind of a doctor you are.”

“And what kind is that?”

“A poor one.”

The words cut deep, severing the last ounce of patience the Aasimar had towards the rude woman, but the fire didn’t want to leave now. It wanted the fight. “What the fuck else can I be?”

Innani stepped back feeling an intense wave of heat come off the lavender woman. Nat fought the urge to step forward to follow, but instead started to pace. 

“I can’t use my magic! By church law I cannot! And as for why your customers are demanding so much of this rancid tea of yours, its because I’ve been fucked, and told there are no flu shots! I can’t open the clinic on Sundays, otherwise yes I would be there right now helping people. I would be out here giving free STD tests, and showing people that I personally give a damn, even if they don’t think my people do! And that is the only reason I am still here taking these insults! Because I need help and I thought you might care enough about the people here to...I dunno...work with me!”

The heat of her fire roiled underneath her skin. She felt that the flames were not far behind. She had to catch her breath. She had to calm down. Otherwise this very wooden store full of old and flammable things could be in danger too. She started to quietly chant a prayer when she remembered her vows, especially on a Sunday. She didn’t have the Damned playing in her head, and any punk songs she remembered only made her more ready to fight back. 

The sharp coolness of mint and kiwi filtered through the air. The aroma reminded her of the weather that morning. The final vestiges of summer giving way to the chill of a bitter fall season. The divine immolation she was holding back was suddenly soothed. She had sworn the steaming mug had been full of that strange blend, but now it smelled of mint, and something colder, and more earthy. The mystery of what it was stunned her as much as how quickly her fire had calmed. “How...how did you?”  
  
Innani rapped her knuckles across the counter, bringing Nat’s focus back to her. “It will not do for an Embered like yourself to be losing control in a shop that has more value than your practice. Please stay focused.”  
  
“Tell me how you know what I am first. You seem to be the one who knows everything about me and has already passed judgement. How do you know my caste?”

Innani took a sip of her tea, and smirked. “Because I actually remember the types of people that live here and what they are or need. I am aware of the possible maladies that float through the upper and lower echelons of society, and while I do not openly seek them out, should they find themselves in my shop, then I know just how to help them.”  
  
“So then the answer is here.”, Nat said smugly. “By your own logic just now you admitted it. Those….um...good hearted people who deal with um...big pest issues, are at risk of being infected with any number of poisons or diseases. If you pay attention and if you do actually plan for the eventuality, then that means the cure for petrification is something you know.” 

The stone silence of the other woman was all she needed to confirm she was right. Nat stumbled backwards, still slightly dizzy from the rush of her inner temperature drop and marveled at all of the books and dried herbs around her. “So much I don’t know...and if…”  
  
“If what?”, came a flat response. “If you know you’ll share the knowledge with your people? You will refine it using the best technology at your disposal? And then what?”

The Doctor looked at her curiously. “I’d share it of course. Make sure it was put to good use along with anything else that would benefit people. A third option that was in front of us the whole time.”

“Do you truly think that if you go back to your ivory palace with this knowledge in hand, that they would let you out with it? The very thing you seek to share would be tied up in the same red tape that you claim holds you back now. Then your agents would come for people like me and other healers. The components of your cure now somehow copyright protected, meaning we cannot use them. We have to find new ways again. Possibly fatal ones.”  
  


The tone in Innani’s voice told Nat that the older woman had lived through this very scenario before, or someone close to her did. She knew the church was very protective of its intellectual property but she never thought to ask just how far they went to enforce it. Still she felt the fire inside her say that this was the right way to go. The third option she had been praying for. 

“So….so what can I do to prove to you I won’t share it? Just tell me what I can do to make you trust me. That whatever I learn or do here stays as hidden as it is currently.”

“You expect me to believe that you would risk everything just for one obscure cure that has a one in a million chance of walking through your door?” The Mint and Kiwi was sour and bitter in the Aasimar’s nose. She felt the compulsion once more to speak her mind, but with the fire of anxiety quieted. 

“It..it already did come through my door. I already broke the rules once to cure it. I know from this patient that there is worse out there now too. If basilisks still exist, what else is still roaming around? What other maladies could come walking through that door? The hunters. I know about them.”

Innani’s eyes widened. “Silence!”

  
The Aasimar shied back as the woman stalked from behind the counter, stopping inches away. “If you know of these things then why don’t we talk of them? How naive are you? Why do you risk exposing yourself to those who may not see you as benevolent but an enemy or worse, a hostage?”  
  
  
The weight of the woman’s accusations pressed down on Nat. With every word, the blame directed towards the church was stacked on her chest. The worst part was that her accusations had the sting of truth to them. No lies clouded the anger in Innani’s eyes. She wanted to run but another weight was holding her back. One in her hand made of thin plastic, full of music that gave life to the things she was feeling. A burgeoning image of the woman she wanted to become, and that woman wasn’t going to have any of this.  
  
  
“Because it’s the right thing to do.”, she said firmly, reaching into her bag and pulling out the stack of flyers. “Because these people are already doing what I want to be doing. Cause I want to help, not improve or replace.” A snippet of _Bad Cop Bad Cop’s “It’s Just My Life”_ ran through her head. A remnant of the barrage of music she was still digesting from the record store. “I don’t know any other way.”, she said in disbelief. Doors of clarity started to open in her mind as she looked at the brandished flyers once more. “I’m here to help, and Shavatra help me, I will.”  
  
  
Innani stepped back and gave a mirthless smile. “With what resources?”

“My own,” she countered.

“With whose support?”

“Theirs.” She shook the papers again.

“And our secrets here?”

“There’s nothing here the church needs to know about.” Nat’s voice grew stronger now. More defiant.

The shopkeeper took another sip of her tea. “And if they Excommunicate you?”

“What?”, Nat asked, confused. “Why would they exile me for helping people? Isn’t that what Shavastra created us to do?”

“And that is what you think Excommunication entails? Exile?”

“Yeah. I mean. I guess. I just know Echoes leave and never return.” 

Innani folded her arms and studied the nervous Aasimar, narrowing her eyes. Nat could make out some mental math being done behind her eyes. The tall woman turned, gesturing for Nat to follow, guiding her to one of the towering bookshelves. “Look them over. Pick one.”

Nat followed behind her, craning her neck to peer up at the contents of the shelf. 

“These are all the books on modern herbalism. Pick one that you think will teach you exactly what it is you want to know. One that will make you a part of this _community_ .” Venom dripped on her final word.  
  


“But a book can only teach so much. I need someone to show me or explain or maybe at least supply…”

“I am no teacher. If you, good doctor, think that the world still contains the knowledge to remedy things like basilisk poison without magic, then by all means...educate yourself.”

Nat dragged her finger along the various titles. Mostly it contained thick paperbacks with modern fonts along the sides and flowery titles such as “Living the Best Herbal Life” or “A Hospital In Your Home”. Pop culture quick fixes weren’t going to cut it, but from initial looks they were all that Innani was presenting right now. This couldn’t be all that she shop kept in stock, considering how critical Innani had been in talking about the subject. These books were for the tourists, which made Nat even more determined. She was no tourist. She started on the lower shelves and slowly made her way up. Innani’s stern gaze was applying pressure, making her realize how few books she had left to go. This was a test of some sort. How in the hell did she get pushed into a test? 

Straining above her to reach for the next shelf just out of reach she felt her edge of another shiny new paperback slip beneath her fingertips. She made a weak jump to grab again, realizing she could just ask for a stool when her hands found a hold and she reflexively tugged at the book. As she wrenched it free, a thick blue hardbound tome came tumbling after it, landing on her head and into her hands. “Ow! Sorry! Sorry!” she whimpered. She couldn’t look up into Innani’s eyes. It was starting to feel too much like looking up at her mother. Instead she focused on the plain looking book that had injured her. 

It was a little faded and dusty, but it reminded her of the old medical journals she was forced to read as a child. Inside it was all bland and dry information, organized alphabetically according to the simple Table of Contents, as she expected. Thankfully an index was in the back allowing her to scan for the word _basilisk_. The old education enchantments cast on her as a child started to wake up and soak in the jumble of words splayed in front of her. As her eyes relaxed and the old magic pulsed within her mind once more, the text became easier to read. Raw data shuffled into context, creating a spider’s web between the page numbers. Her finger traced the thread from the word, “paralysis” back to the word “stone”. From there she saw a similar page number referenced. Page 246. 

Flipping to the section she found musings on Dwarven Rockfoot. An old affliction that ancient dwarves who mined too far down would get. It wasn’t petrification per se but there was something there about how to remove the stone-like growths fused to skin. Then she remembered another page that referenced the word flesh? What if… 

She felt the magic give a positive hum inside her mind.

“This one.” she murmured, and closed it with a loud slap passing it to the clerk. “This one has what I need.”

“This is just a reference. No real focus or assurance that what you want is...:"

“It’s what I need”, the Aasimar said flatly. “Not what I want.”

Innani smirked and chuckled to herself as she led her back to the counter and punched numbers into the register. “It’s not cheap. It only gets reprinted every so often, and honestly I shouldn’t be keeping it on the shelf.”

Remembering that night, and the hunter’s insistence that she pay for her services, Nat pulled a couple hundred dollar bills out of her pocket and slapped them on the counter, trying to mimic Vola’s tone. “That’s fine. I know I’ll need a few other things too.” 

“No. I’ll sell you the book. Nothing more.”

“What’s stopping me from going elsewhere to buy what I need?”

“Nothing. In fact you could probably very well order half of the tools you think you’ll need online and have them at your home in a matter of days, but would you really know what you’re doing?”

Nat nodded, conceding the point. “So then what do I do next?”

The human took the bills from the counter and passed back her change, before sliding the book into a thick brown bag. “Come back if you can. Say maybe tomorrow. Anytime between 11 and 2. It is slow then. Do some reading tonight and we shall see.”

“You said you don’t teach.”

The smirk returned to her sharp features and for once there was the glitter of amusement in her eyes. “I don’t. But it gets boring during the lunch hours and I am always willing to talk...or in your case I think it may be more of a debate.”

Taking her purchase back, a sigh of relief escaped her lips, much to her surprise. “So...just come back to talk?”

“After you’ve read a bit. I can’t have a conversation with someone who doesn’t know the craft.”

Nat nodded and turned to leave, inhaling the scent of the temple incenses once more. So many questions burned at the back of her mind now. The one thing she was sure of was that she got more than just the book from Innani. The services on the flyers and possibility of supplementing her care with folk treatments filled her with renewed courage. She had taken numerous dares today and they all paid off. 

Looking up and down the street, she saw the Adult Novelty shop once more and felt her fire and libido issue another challenge. This time she wasn’t going to run away from it. 

========================================================================

It was about mid-afternoon when Nat stumbled into her apartment, arms laden with multiple bags, and her head throbbing with another anxiety headache. 

Between the new music, the lingering rush from her shopping spree, and the new challenge presented by Inanni, Nat had hit her emotional limit. Where the bus ride that morning filled her with courage, the ride back left her feeling vulnerable and exposed thanks to the creeping thoughts brought on by emotional exhaustion. The myriad of races that brought her hope suddenly felt like alien eyes, wondering why this strange looking woman was on the bus, openly carrying very large shopping bags.

Nat shook her head clear of the nagging paranoia, reminding herself that she hadn’t had enough to eat and was over stimulated. Every Embered Aasimar seemed to have some form of anxiety disorder that fluctuated between low to severe depending on their line of work, social status, or even just day to day life. On campus though there were programs and training that helped all those born with “a sliver of Shatrava’s Heart” inside of them. 

While Nat had been born Embered, the scholastic and monastic environment of her mother’s massive house provided plenty of serene spaces and handlers that knew how to handle the girl’s gift. When she began medical training, the myopic focus on her career and magical training prevented errant thoughts from making her spark up. She never truly understood how much work went into keeping a divine immolation in check, until she met Mara, and even then she attributed most of her girlfriend’s nervousness to her PTSD from her own Rumspringa. 

Today was the actual first day Nat understood how her girlfriend and other Embered struggled. Stress was part and parcel of being a medic and healer, and she knew that Mara’s needs and her future as the Superior would require her to endure even greater tests of emotional resolve. It was one thing to think about the cost of power, and another to experience it first hand though. 

She trudged into her living room, depositing her shopping bags and purse onto the couch, standing in front of a massive wrought iron lotus on the wall. Even though it wasn’t an officially sanctioned piece of holy art, the simple sight of Shatrava’s symbol was enough to help center her fire. That her goddess would never grant any power that she couldn’t handle, and that she had been able to master this inferno of emotions until now. There was no reason she couldn’t learn to understand and contain it again. This was just part of the grand test that was her Rumspringa.

Letting the Education Enchantments take control, she closed her eyes and recalled all of the details of her apartment. The white painted drywall with a large patio door overlooking the expanse of the Exalted district. Five of the Ten Towers glittering like ebony pillars blocking out portions of the sky. The Sunset, revealing that arcane golden glow contrasted against the dark of the night. The orange/yellow light from frosted glass wall sconces that lined her apartment and track lighting illuminating specific parts of her small kitchen with its obsidian stone countertops. Her dark brown leather furniture with black wood frames. An empty mantle over an electric fireplace adorned with serene landscapes. 

Her mind focused on how soft and large the king-sized bed felt, and how empty it was even with her in it. The large walk-in closet, mostly empty. She plotted out the small bathroom, barely big enough for one person and how even though it would be cramped, sharing the tub with Mara would be a joy. 

Though it was bland and temporary, this was her home. A place set aside for her in the outside world, and though it had begun to feel like a prison, it was still familiar and safe. It still gave her a view of the vast beauty of New Darpana Bay. 

She sighed in relief, the tension no longer pounding at her temples. The soreness in her back however hadn’t gone away, and the urge to get into something more comfortable pushed her towards the bedroom. Nat freed herself from her bra, taking it and her shopping bags into the bedroom. The clock on the wall softly ticked to 5 o’clock, reminding her that she still had so much to fill her evening with. 

Dumping the contents out on her bed, Nat started to sort them all out into piles. The CDs and records went into one, while all of the flyers and cards she picked up went into another. Then her new phone, herbalism tome and a rechargeable pink silicone vibrator. The daring purchase she made from the sex shop was placed purposely last. She blushed as she touched the box, remembering how powerful the demo version of the sex toy was. This would be far better than a shower head. It would be so easy to open the box and see if it had a little bit of a charge right?  
  
The Aasimar slapped her own cheeks gently, bringing herself back to task. “Okay. Let’s um...let’s focus. Lots here. Lotsa good. Don’t get overwhelmed.”

The smell of sweat and her two new shirts reminded her of the full bin of dirty clothes in the closet. “May as well start there,” she said to no one, and stripped out of her clothes. Scavenging around her closet, the only clean thing she found was her Church of Nakshatra sweatpants and t-shirt that she wore for working out. They weren’t pajamas or one of her new shirts, but it would have to do for now. “Okay...well...comfy clothes time,” she sighed. 

Looking over the assortment of items, she realized that she would have to be careful with so much of this. Mara had been a stickler about separating campus life from the outside world, meaning she could not share any of the going-ons of their friends, jobs, or church politics. In fact it was only because of their father’s position as Head of Intelligence that the other Aasimar was allowed to make regular visits. Being one of the first publicly queer couples had its benefits too. There were so many new rules and precedents they were setting, that the church had to amend some of the more traditional rules of the rumspringa to accommodate the potential Mother Superior.   
  
Even still she couldn’t push her luck. Even if she was bending the rules there were still some behaviors or acts she could commit that would put her moral character in question, and jeopardize not only her position as clergy, but also possibly put her at risk of excommunication, the highest form of punishment within the church. 

For most religions, the act of excommunication meant losing a community, the right to attend services at temples, and even social shunning. You still had the ability to live your life afterwards. Within the Church of Nakshatra, excommunication had far greater impacts on your life after exile. Not only were you banished, but all records of the condemned were removed from church systems. No one was allowed to speak of you ever again. You were no longer part of the Song of Shatrava. You were just an Echo. That was all she knew about the dire ritual, however. What happened after you entered those tribunal chambers remained a mystery. She only knew what she did because of the impact that the sudden loss of a colleague or neighbor had on her personally. She had lost a few people as a result of excommunication. Teachers, Colleagues, and even her own father, though that was before she was born.

She had even been warned against speaking to any exiles she may come across before her coming of age. When she asked how she would be able to distinguish them from her staff or any other Church-bonded Aasimar, she was simply warned, “They will be marked.” That was all. 

Returning her attention to the items splayed out in front of her, she thought about how to handle all these new discoveries. As much as she wanted to push to evolve their relationship, she didn’t want to push Mara into breaking her own vow of separation, and then report her for her actions. Better to keep up appearances and bring things out as she needed for now...at least until she could ease her girlfriend into things. 

The music wouldn’t be a problem. The sound system sported 2 locked cabinets underneath the players designed for housing her vinyl and CDs. Not that she would need to worry about locking them up. Mara hadn’t paid attention to any of the electronics in the apartment other than the TV, but still just to be safe, she secured the collection and put a spare key on the keyring. 

Next was the book, vibrator and cellphone. The cellphone was easy enough to set up. Just plug it in to the charger, turn it on and let the phone auto program itself. As she tucked the charging cable away behind the nightstand and deposited the phone in a lower drawer she looked back over to the other boxed item. 

She nervously opened the packaging of her new toy. Sliding it out of the plastic packing sleeve, she marveled at how soft the silicon coating it was. She admired the slight curve to the tip and imagined how it would feel to insert something bigger than a finger or two inside herself. Would it hurt or would it hit that spot that her fingers never seemed to reach? Should she try now?

She tossed the toy onto the bed, as the education enchantments reminded her of the programmed task she set for herself. “Later,” she told herself sternly. Reaching into the box she took out the warning instructions and charging cable. She was worried that Mara would notice maybe one more charging cable in the wall when she went to use the bathroom, but it looked as if it used the same type of charger as the phone. That would make for an easy fix. She had to find somewhere to hide it though. She knew the other woman would occasionally go through the night stands looking for tissues or various house items. It worked for the phone for now, but ultimately that would go with her in her purse. 

Mara never went near the dresser, even though Nat had set a drawer aside with some pajamas and clothing of Mara’s just in case. It was supposed to be a gesture of trust and a hint at maybe they should move past this chaste part of their relationship. Instead it caused Mara to lean harder into her own vows of chastity and separation. Keeping the vibrator in her underwear drawer seemed smart and safe enough for the time being. She would just need to charge it tonight in the nightstand. 

The book and flyers she knew would stay with her. She’d need them if she was going to be making connections outside of the clinic or seeing more of that Innani person. She daydreamed for a moment about walking out into Lower Silks with a sporty looking bag over her shoulder big enough to carry this book, her phones and maybe a planner and have room for her wallet or anything she would purchase at Summoner’s Sounds...or the sex shop. For now she could use a briefcase gifted to her by Mara’s father, Padri, before she left. 

The book itself was nondescript enough that if asked she could dismiss it as some boring old medical text she had found in a library. She’d get yelled at for using a library but that would be the end of it. As she mapped the excuse and other behaviors into her enchantment, it dawned on her that she had gotten used to being lectured by her girlfriend. She loved Mara, but what did it say about their relationship if she was already using the other Aasimar’s habits to hide her true desires? As bad as it made her feel, she knew a bigger fight would kick up if she didn’t.

The book smelled of incense that was reminiscent of the campus, taking her back to the warm and bright serenity that the High Abbey brought to her when it was empty. That hour right after services, when everyone left to go be with family, she would remain alone so she could bond with their goddess and not be interrupted with talk of this text or that verse. She knew better than to speak out openly against the high priestess or her mother within those sacred walls, but she couldn’t escape the hypocrisy that several of the interpretations contained. The day she rejected the “holy vestments” from her mother and sat in the pews with all others proud as a proud Embered was the day she ceased to be impressed by the pageantry.

Shatrava was the mother of life, and therefore all that came from and cherished the gift should be tended to and celebrated. Sunday Services had just become a rote presentation of words she was forced to read and memorize as a child. Nothing to learn anymore. No different than her medical texts. Helpful but the power was in the application, not the blind faith.

Again the tickle of magic summoned the nagging voice of her beloved. The scent would immediately make her suspicious too. She could put the book next to the window tonight and let it air out, but for now while she had the time….why not enjoy it?

She slid the flyers under the front cover of the herbalism book for the time being but one slipped free and glided to the ground, the one with the half-naked Tiefling. 

Bending over to pick it up, Nat noticed details about it that she hadn’t before. How part of the dancer’s nipple was poking up from the cup of her bra, or the slight camel toe that she could make out between her legs. Fingers traced the tiefling’s tail as it snaked around her leg, up to the base of her back where it pulled her panties down just slightly enough to hint at what the underwear was covering. She bit her lip, imagining how the woman’s voice would sound, or the way the Tiefling would look at her before pushing her onto the bed, rolling her bra off her shoulders. Letting it fall on Nat’s face.  
  
She reached down into her panties slowly as she fell back onto the bed. How long had it been since she had been able to get off? She'd tried this morning while thinking of Mara, and that hadn’t worked, but this burlesque dancer? Would she maybe take Nat out of the bedroom and into the living room? Pull open the patio blinds and start to dance in front of the whole city, while she watched? 

Guilt tangled up with the increasing urge to start playing with her clit. These thoughts weren’t about Mara, but at the same time, she wasn’t being interrupted by memorized lectures or shame. This fantasy woman wouldn’t judge her. In fact she wanted her. Badly. Slowly opening her eyes, Nat realized she was still in her bedroom and alone. In fact there was something else new and intriguing there. The vibrator. 

  
She recalled the high pitch hum the demo model made in the store letting her know just how powerful the toy was and if she put it down there...where it was already so sensitive and wet…didn’t...didn't that sales woman also say it had a slight charge to it already? 

  
  


She felt the soft cushion of her comforter under her back now, as she slid off her pants and panties. Fumbling with the vibrator she jumped a bit when it came to life, sending shivers down her arm. Tension that had long since been building since she turned 18 suddenly felt like there was a big release just over the horizon. It felt silly. She was just by herself, but in her mind, the horned dancer still straddled her, dangling her thick luscious breasts in her face. The vibrator slid gently down her stomach, causing her to release a gasp, and then a low moan, as she slowly made her way down...”

“Natalyiah!? Are you there!? Nataliyah! I’m outside!! Please say you’re okay!”

Mara’s voice shattered the erotic illusion in an instant. Cold panic replaced the warm longing as she jumped from the bed pulling her pants back up. Her heart pounded loudly, as the aasimar grabbed up the book, and buried it into her closet, slightly out of sight onto one of the lower shelves. She reached for the vibrator as her girlfriend pounded on the door again, yelling. “Natalyiah! Natalyiah! Where are you!? Are you alive? You haven’t answered your phone all day!”

As if on cue she heard the rattle of her church phone on the kitchen counter. It dawned on her that she had completely forgotten to check it when she got back. Pulling the bedroom door closed, she dashed to the living room, unlatching the locks and chain. She took a deep breath while tousling her hair up, trying to look as sleepy as possible. She slowly opened the door meeting the gleaming amber eyes of her beloved. “Oh….hey sweetie. I am so sorry I just...I was napping and…”

Her girlfriend pushed inside of the apartment, beelining for the counter where her phone was vibrating from yet another text. The other Aasimar was a blur of silver skin and long pink curly hair. She still smelled faintly of the temple incense as well. Nat’s brain started to piece together the timeline of events through her girlfriend’s day reflexively, using the information to craft a number of excuses or distractions. Before she could speak, Mara held up the device. “All of my texts, since this afternoon! Unread! My calls missed! You haven’t even checked your emails!”

Nat did the math. The drive from the campus was easily nearly two hours or more depending on traffic, and she would have had lunch with her father, which meant to get to the city before dark she would have had to speed. Nat took the phone from her girlfriend’s hand and set it back down on the counter, fighting the urge to roll her eyes as the other woman fidgeted with the silver purity ring she wore on her left ring finger.

“I-um...I’m sorry. I wanna blame work, but like we agreed, I can’t always put that on the clinic. I was really tired but I should have brought my phone back to the bedroom with me or turned on the ringer. I’m sorry.” She reached out to take the other girl’s hand in her own, admiring how their silver and lavender fingers intertwined. The worry and anger faded from her eyes and brow as Nat stroked her cheek and looked into her amber glowing eyes, brushing some of her long pink curls out of her face. Mara’s button nose wiggled at the tickling sensation and a sudden spike in heat made her freckles turn dark, like oxidized spots on metal. 

_Oxidized metal flakes are a key component in most compounds required for weakening a physical form or object. These compounds make it easier to remove calcified growths off organic and inorganic surfaces, however the acidity level must be taken into account when applying it to organic tissues or living…_ _  
__  
_“I said I forgive you!” Mara snapped her fingers in front of Nat’s face several times.

“Wha-? What?”

“I was telling you I forgave you and you just spaced out...again.” The hurt look returned. “What is wrong with you today? I swear it's like since our argument the other night you’ve been somewhere else. Was this how you used to be in school? Have your enchantments been acting up?”

Nat stepped back and opened the patio doors to let in some air hoping to cool the warm flood of magic creeping down her neck and into her spine. Her skin was even soaking in environmental information now. This wasn’t good...or it was but just not right now. She was remembering things from the few pages of the tome she purchased. That factoid...it was brilliant. She had never thought about that before. Maybe that was one way of curing basilisk poison.

She took a deep breath of the crisp evening air and composed herself. Mara was here and hurt. She had an apartment full of hidden contraband. Her tongue was heavy with the lies she had already told the other Aasimar. 

She straightened her posture before turning around with a genuine look of remorse. “Babe. I’m very very sorry. Things have been stressful lately because of the changes the council has been making and the budget cuts. And then there's the vaccination shortage and….”

A silver hand shot up in protest. “Nataliyah. Please. The rules. You know you can’t tell me these things. I’m not supposed to know, just like you aren’t supposed to know about things on campus.”

Divine anger spiked through her thin veil of patience. “So...so where does that leave us Mara? You’re not giving me much to talk about with you. All it has been is what we want to eat, or what we watch, or our relationship and we’ve talked and talked and talked. I’ve done everything I can to make you feel comfortable but you’re leaving me with nothing for myself here. Maybe breaking the rules once in a while is what we need. I...I have no one. Literally no one to talk to about what’s bothering me right now. Not even my girlfriend.”

Mara flopped onto the couch. “I..I love you, and I’m sorry it's been a rough few weeks...or months. But ever since you started this Rumspringa, our relationship has been taxed. It's like you don’t see the hard position it is putting me in. How impossible it is for me to honor my vows, and my own needs, while you...you seem to be enjoying it out here more and more. That scares me Natalyiah. It keeps me up at night.”

Mara hugged a throw pillow to her chest with one arm. “You should be grateful to see me at all. Father said Rumspringas are supposed to be a trial. I wasn’t allowed half of the liberties that you’ve been given during mine, and I…” She stopped mid-sentence, face twisting up in pain at some memory flickering across her eyes. “Nevermind! My-my point is that you have support, even if you’re not satisfied with its shape. This is also how we prove to the council we can be as faithful and chaste as any normal couple. Have you considered that?” 

Mara drummed her fingers along the arm of the couch and waited for the healer to speak. She watched the gears turning behind Nat’s brilliant blue eyes. Eventually the other woman’s shoulders slumped in defeat and she held up her hands in surrender.

“Okay...okay...I um...Maybe I haven’t and I’m sorry. I think we are both not considering a lot of what the other needs and with life as it is right now, maybe we call truce...for tonight.” The look of consternation was not the answer she had hoped for. “C’mon baby. Please. Maybe you know...we could cuddle, cry it out,” she pleaded. “Maybe even make out a bit?” She regretted the hopeful words the moment they left her mouth.

Mara’s face hardened. “Make out? Are you seriously suggesting hanky panky right now?” She held up her ring. “Did you forget!? Not until marriage!! Not that we could! Our marriage wouldn’t be legal and that whole fight has ground to a halt because you’re not there and...” Mara caught herself before she said anything else. She fidgeted with her purity ring again and furrowed her brow. “And don’t call me baby. I don’t like it. I...I don’t like how casual you’ve been speaking to me lately.”

“And I don’t like being referred to by my full name by my girlfriend! Talk to me like I’m a normal person! Call me Nat!”

“You’re not just a regular person! Even if...when we are married, you will not be a regular person. You’re a doctor! An ordained healer! You’ll be the Mother Superior one day! You will always be Natalyiah Shaviantar!”

“So does that mean you’ll always be lesser than me!? Is that what you’re saying!? That you’ll have to always kneel to my station, even when we are the same Caste!? Is that how you want our relationship to be!?

A hard silence filled the space between them. Glittering amber eyes met burning sapphires as they analyzed each other carefully, unwilling to bend or break. 

Eventually Mara cleared her throat. “I see your kitchen is clean. No dishes in the sink. The coffee pot was empty. There’s no used glasses in the sink either. You haven’t eaten or taken care of yourself today have you?”

Something inside of her surrendered and she flopped on the opposite end of the couch. She took three deep breaths and waited a moment or two before inching closer and eventually resting her head on her shoulder. To her relief Mara didn’t flinch. “No. I did take a shower this morning.” She interlaced her fingers and kissed the back of her right hand. “Just ...right after that…”

“You passed back out?” Her tone was softer. Concerned but not tinged with gordian knots of anxiety. She returned the kiss to the back of Nat’s hand, squeezing gently. “Tell me you’re not going to worry me like this when we’re married. That you’ll remember to take care of yourself. Not overwork.”  
  
“Well, I mean I can hope maybe you’ll be there when I get home. Maybe wake up with some gentle reminders, and we can talk about what we want to make for dinner or who’s turn it is to do laundry. You know...domestic stuff.”

Mara gave a relieved chuckle. “You mean you’d actually cook something?”

“Depends on if cooking came with kisses.”

The silver Aasimar rolled her eyes and gave Nat a gentle kiss on the lips. “Will you please eat something and quit acting like a heathen, so we can enjoy a night together?” She sniffed. “And maybe shower again. Doesn’t smell like the first one did any good.” She laughed.

“Maybe...I’m kinda liking this right now.” The healer cooed. “Just being….” She sighed and felt her tension melt. 

The pair silently watched as the sun finished setting behind the city skyline. She always loved catching the moment the city lights came to life, revealing the nocturnal beauty that was New Darpana Bay. She wanted to gush about how good it felt to share it with her. How she wished someone else was here to take a photo of the two of them kissing in front of that backdrop. How she wanted to end every day from work like this, in Mara’s arms soaking in the quiet and feeling like someone understood her. 

Her girlfriend didn’t though, and truth be told she doubted she ever would.

Mara’s trauma regarding the secular world was too deep seated and to be fair she couldn’t blame her. Her own rumspringa had been cut short after she was attacked while hanging out with a neighbor. Another woman that worked in the same Technical Support Center she did. The woman was knocked out and dragged away, while Mara was left handcuffed to a chair with no way to call for help. After she didn’t call to check in the following day, her father raced to her rescue. She returned home early and received extensive therapy for her ordeal, but it did little to ease the powerlessness she felt all the time. Nothing about the world outside the Campus seemed safe or colorful. Just shadows lurking around corners. She also realized she was gay, which made things incredibly harder.

Being openly gay was a radical act within the ivory walls, and it was only because of her position that Nat had managed to afford the LGBT members of the church some amount of protection or at least the chance to speak up. Sadly, Mara came out before that safe space was created and her father was not the most open-minded of individuals to begin with.

Nat never quite understood Padri’s motivations when it came to introducing the two of them. According to Mara, he wanted her to have some peers that would help her avoid giving into Sin or immoral behavior, and if there was any one person on campus like her that would serve to be that anchor, it would be Natalyiah. No one expected the pair to fall in love. 

Nat rubbed the purity ring along Mara’s ring finger resentfully. She had held back with how sick the idea was but that was a decision her girlfriend had made. Before she turned 18, Nat was fine with not discussing sex at all, but after her birthday, it made sense to finally broach the subject. Two weeks later and five near break-ups later, Mara made a firm declaration to maintain her virginity until such time Nat would replace the purity ring with a wedding band. 

That was the first time the Doctor had felt her own hope give out. Gay Rights on campus was still just on the verge of becoming a reality, and the ability to get married was going to be such a long battle. One she was prepared for, but not at the cost of her own happiness. When she tried to bargain with Padri on the matter, he simply told her in the most respectful way possible that as Superior there would be so much happiness she would have to sacrifice, in service of the greater good, before hanging up the phone.

Where Mara saw a symbol of purity, Nat only saw oppression. Fragments of angry feminist punk anthems started to filter through her mind along with memories of the fish and chips and bikini latte. A rant started to form in her throat up as her stomach growled. Mara gently tugged on her ear. “You are still not eating.”

She sighed, releasing her anger and other tangled feelings. “Just till the sun sets.” She stayed silent until the last vestige of light was gone and the calm of night replaced the messiness of her evening. “I’m sorry for arguing,” she whispered. “And I’m sorry for worrying you. Can we….can we call truce and maybe enjoy tonight...till you have to go home.”

  
Her girlfriend poked her in her side. “That is why I drove out here, Natalyiah. And I never want to fight. I just want us to be happy, and lately it feels like you aren’t.” Her fingers wound through the thick white strands of Nat’s hair and started to massage her scalp. “I know you’ll come back to me stronger from these tests but it’s hard, not seeing you everyday. I worry that something is going to happen and that night when you didn’t call to let me know you were home safe from work on time…”

She felt a reassuring squeeze on her knee. “I know. And I’m sorry. Again. I wish I could explain it all to you. I want to.”

“But vows right?”, Mara said with a surprisingly bitter tone to her voice. Nat’s ears perked up at it. She knew better than to hope but it was the first time Mara hinted at being frustrated with the rules. Nat repressed an urge to agitate it. No, she had to let it grow and strengthen on its own. 

_Pick your battles,_ she thought to herself, and just nodded in agreement. “But we have tonight, and maybe next weekend too right? Maybe we can do an all-day date next Saturday?” 

“The clinic is still open on Saturdays, remember?” Another soft tug at her ear. “And we are launching a new search engine next weekend. Finally replacing that old hunk of junk that never worked right. This time we’re experimenting with some new fusion of code and divination that….” She stopped mid-sentence. Nat raised an eyebrow.

  
“That will what?” Another slip-up. Maybe she was getting through to her. 

“Nothing. I shouldn’t have even said anything.” Mara stood up abruptly, pushing Nat off the couch and stormed into the kitchen. “Maybe we can do a quick dinner after services on Sunday.”

“You mean like tonight?” she replied dryly.

The sound of the fridge and several cabinets opening was her only reply as the head of curly hair frantically worked around the kitchen ignoring the previous subject. “Well I would say like tonight, but that would imply you even had food to eat….other than noodle cups and coffee.”

Nat looked outside and tried to hide the embarrassment in her voice. “I got held up at work on Tuesday and I wasn’t home in time for the grocery delivery.” She cringed as Mara sighed once more. “Sorry?” 

“Well then it's The Coder’s Ambrosia for dinner.”

“Coder’s Ambrosia?”

Mara chuckled. “Coder’s Ambrosia. It’s what we call cup noodles and coffee, because during a release it’s all we have time to eat.”

“Really!?” Nat bounced back onto the couch, eyes and ears alert. “I would have thought you could get the commissary or cafeteria to bring you something. You guys are always working on some new thing and …”

The squaring of shoulders and click of teeth, dispelled the lightness that had just begun to fill the room. “Chicken, Beef or Shrimp flavor?”, she asked emotionlessly. 

Nat, rolled her eyes and turned back around to watch the skyline once more. “Beef. I should have chili sauce in the fridge too.”


	3. So You Go And You Stand On Your Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fragile truce between Nat and Mara is threatened by a documentary. After the smoke clears, Nat finds herself in a strange new place that forces her to face the truth about herself. 
> 
> CW/TW: Domestic Aggression 
> 
> This work contains lyrics from The Cure, The Damned, Corpus Delecti, Bad Cop Bad Cop, Rise Against, The Smiths and Bikini Kill. All rights belong to the respective recording artists.

_"_ _You shut your mouth_  
 _How can you say_  
 _I go about things the wrong way?_  
 _I am human and I need to be loved_  
 _Just like everybody else does"_  
 _The Smiths - How Soon is Now?_

=================================================

While the world outside the church presented Nat with an endless supply of many new experiences, within 3 weeks of her Rumspringa she had developed a very strong opinion about documentaries. 

She would rather watch paint dry.

It wasn’t that the content itself bored her as it was the company she watched them with. With little to talk about, no making out, and a strict 10pm stop time, the couple spent every date night the same way. A sparse dinner, very light conversation, maybe an argument or three, and then cuddling on the couch watching whatever documentary was on until Mara headed home. 

So far this Sunday was no exception. Crappy dinner, multiple fights, a lot of apologies and a lot of tense silence. It was almost a relief when Nat heard the TV power on, after Mara complained about how sweaty she smelled for the umpteenth time. The hint to go shower wasn’t lost on her. Taking one just meant losing more of the precious time she had with her girlfriend.

Nat also wanted to prevent Mara from poking around the apartment as much as possible. In the past when she would go to the bathroom, she would hear the sounds of drawers in the bedroom or the hallway washer closet being opened and closed. For the daughter of the head of their spies and security team, Mara lacked any stealth. Not that she wanted to be a spy. She was a programmer, and happy with her quiet life hammering out code in her own little corner of the IT department. 

At first the lack of trust angered Nat, but she chalked it up to just a byproduct of her paranoia and anxiety. Plus she had nothing to hide, or that used to be the case. When a not so subtle request came again, she deflected it by pointing out how they only had about two more hours before curfew, and promised to shower before bed. 

The other Aasimar grumbled and agreed to let the subject drop, as the night’s educational entertainment began. They arranged themselves in a semi-comfy pile on the couch and settled in to enjoy a documentary on the evolution of Hastrism, one of the biggest religions in the world. 

Mara’s hand shot out for the remote and clicked through through the programming guide revealing that the only two other channels were showing local news, or a 24/7 weather report. Nat joked, “Weather is kinda action packed. Worse things to watch.”,but it was returned with the clatter of the remote being tossed onto the coffee table, and a nonsensical snarl. The healer stroked her girlfriend’s head and didn’t say another word, basking in a moment of twisted joy.

Normally by the end of the night, Nat would be nearly snoring while Mara soaked in everything about whatever natural subject the documentary was centered on. This time however, Nat was the one glued to the screen while Mara pretended to nap, blocking her ears with a pillow and her hand. The Church of Nakshatra was one of the few religious institutions that could channel divine magic, and the only one left with access to healing magic. In the olden days, however, they were second in power to Hastrism. According to the narrator, after a council of High Priests and Priestesses broke the church into three denominations, their divine powers began to wane.

Followers of Hastra could no longer find a compromise over which aspect of their god was more important in the quickly evolving world. Originally the deity was worshipped as the God of Strength and Protection. He was the sun that kept the roads lit and safe for travellers, and the benevolent light that helped crops and livestock grow strong. Warriors prayed to him before battle. After the schism, two of the factions easily found places in the modern world, honoring Hastra as the god of the Commerce and Agriculture within cities and Travel on the seas. As diplomacy and trade became more profitable than war, the third faction, The Scarlet Church, was driven underground. For all of the political power the Hastrans gained in their split, they found themselves bereft of miracles and blessings.

“Funny that they just ignored a full third of their god like that”, Nat murmured. “Makes you wonder.” She waited for a reply but when none was given she continued. “I mean can you imagine if we suddenly treated the Ashened as if they weren’t there?”

She felt Mara tense up, but when the girl remained silent she took it as permission to continue. “It's no wonder they lost so many healers and divine favor. They basically amputated one part of Hastra and never sewed the wound closed. Do you think maybe there’s something to those tales of The Pact of Blood being the lost Scarlet Church? I mean there’s a lot of similarities and I wouldn’t put it past them to demonize their own brethren for political gain. Especially if that Moot was as big of a shit show as they said it was just now.”

“Language.” The word was dripped with anger as Mara pried herself free from the cuddle tangle.

“Hon? What’s up?”

“You.”

Nat muted the television. “What did I do now?”

“I cannot believe you are comparing their failures to us.” She gestured wildly at the TV. 

“What? You mean that comment about the Ashened? That was just for comparison. We don’t do that to our own kin. Not anymore”

“You’re right. We don’t. So let’s drop it.”

“Drop what?” Nat scratched the back of her head, dizzy from the renewed storm brewing within Mara. 

“The whole discussion. All of it.”

“What are you talking about!?”

Mare squared her jaw and nodded curtly towards the television. 

“You can’t be serious!”, Nat gawked. “I thought documentaries were okay!?”

“They are, but why do you feel the need to question and speculate about them!? They are outsiders! They have no impact on our lives or how we live! Why even care about what they did hundreds of years ago!?”

Nat gave a bitter laugh. “It was just thinking out loud! It was interesting! You can’t say that we haven’t been guilty of such things! We have never exiled an entire caste until the world accords forced us, but we did treat the Ashened pretty badly! Remember the stories of the labyrinthian libraries under the old temples!?”

Mara pursed her lips and pretended to focus on the iron lotus on the wall.

“Oh come on! I mean...there’s dig records of the First Campus’s library being dug so deep they found evidence of a Ashened that spoke of the sun as a myth! But we aren’t like the Hastrans! We did better! It just took some outside help to get us there!”

The dark freckles, like black specs along metal, reappeared on her girlfriend’s silver cheeks. Her yellow eyes began to turn into a darker orange. “You’re wrong,” She growled through gritted teeth.

“Wrong!? About what!?” 

“We are the first campus,” Mara replied stiffly.

The healer’s jaw dropped. “You’re shitting me!”

“Language, Natalyiah!”

  
Nat brushed away the admonishment. “You cannot tell me that you believe that our campus is the First Campus. It’s barely even 100 years old. Our people have been around since the gods began crafting life using the Divine Mother’s gift. We had campuses all over the world with sites in Eitos being even larger than our current home. It was only since the great war that we have consolidated ourselves to one singular campus. We can’t just erase our impact on the world or the world’s impact on us.”

“Father has said that we are the First Campus now.” 

The amount of smug confidence in her voice came across like a match being struck. Nat felt heat begin to rise under her skin again. “Yes, traditionally wherever the Mother Superior’s High Abbey and the Obelisk is housed, is considered the First Campus, but originally…”

“Then you agree. We are the first campus. End of discussion.”

A flare of blue flame ignited behind Nat’s eyes. “No! Not the end of discussion! You do not get to tell me how to interpret our history! Just because your father says one thing does not make it law!”

“He is the head of security, I am fairly sure that he has some impact on our laws.”  
  


“Yes, but if he is so keen to only believe what scriptures say, then he’s failing his own station by refusing to acknowledge our past, whether he likes it or not.”

Mara stood up suddenly and started to pace. “Oh really!? And who are you to dictate those things, _Natalyiah Shavianta_ r _?_ ” Her voice dripped with venom as she used her full name. 

That same imperious mimicry of her mother returned, prompting Nat to stand as straight as she could. “I am the future fucking Superior. If I fucking say we are the 13th or 30th or even 100th campus because that is how I read the texts, then that is what the fuck we are!”

“It is not your place!”

“Says who!?”

“Says me! You’re Embered! Like me! It is not your job to interpret and create doctrine! You should uphold them as the Radiants relay them to us!”

She clawed at her sweatshirt trying to hold back tears. Mara’s words stung. It was the first time she had spoken with conviction, and her indignation was directed at Nat. She felt her teeth grind in anger.

“Is that what you want? Huh, Mara? You want me to just sit there and let things keep being as they are?” 

“It is what is expected of you, yes! We all do our duty to keep our home safe and strong. My duty to keep our informational systems secure. Your duty isto keep our morals and teachings the same.”

“What about us, then?”

Mara stopped pacing and stared at her girlfriend. “What are you on about?”

“Don’t you wanna get married? Don’t you wanna take that ring off your finger one day and wear one that I put on there? Don’t you want our union to be recognized in the light of Shatrava’s eyes?”

“I don’t understand.” Mara looked away shamefully as she lied, feigning ignorance.

“We can’t get married Mara!” she roared. “We will never be able to get married! Our friends will never be able to start families or live as who they truly are! Our peers will never be seen as equals! We will be second-class citizens for the rest of our lives! You will forever be just my ‘special friend’ and I will never be able to rip that fucking vile symbol of perversion off your finger and actually make love to you! And it will be my fault for not trying to change things!” 

It was Mara’s turn to fumble for words now. Her mind tried its best to find an answer, any answer to reassure her girlfriend, but the heat coming off the lavender aasimar started to trigger her own immolation. The silent mantras and holy verses that normally brought her peace failed. She scrambled for the first thing she knew would disrupt Nat’s chain of thought. “Is that all this is about for you? Sex? Again?”

The healer threw her hands up. “No! It is not just about sex Mara! You’re not seeing the bigger picture here and I am trying and trying to paint it for you but you refuse to listen! You’re acting against your own interests! You’re acting against me!”

Tears streamed down a darkened lavender skin, while glowing blue eyes pleaded with her from across the room. Mara noticed she herself was now a darker shade of silver. They were both on the verge of combusting and it now fell on her to defuse the argument. She opened and closed her mouth helplessly a few times before her phone began to vibrate on the kitchen counter. She couldn’t hide the rush of relief that the curfew alarm she set went off. She turned to Nat and gave a sad smile. “I...I should go home.”

“You-you’re joking? You’re leaving...just like this?”

Mara shrugged and looked away from her distraught girlfriend. “I need time to think, and I have work in the morning.” She repressed the urge to stop there, and conceded a bit to one of Nat’s previous wants. “Got a big release to prepare for. If we um...if we get it deployed early maybe Saturday Date?”

A wet angry sob was her only reply. 

“I’ll text once I get home of course and we can talk more this week about things. I promise. I just...I just need to think. Just don’t oversleep or forget to look at your phone all day okay?”

A bitter laugh was followed by more sniffles. “Yeah...yeah. Just need time to think too I guess.”

Mara moved to grab her purse when she felt a pressure in her bladder. “Gonna just use the restroom real quick and then walk me down?” Nat nodded quietly, refusing to look at her, as Mara made her way down the hallway towards her bedroom.

Tonight was nothing like she had expected it to go. They had fought before but never like this. Instead of some amount of frustrated hope, Mara was going to leave her with mounting dread for their future to gnaw on for the next week. She wished the other woman hadn’t even bothered to come out today. Instead of arguing, she could have been perfectly happy spending her evening reading her new book and testing out her new toy. 

Realization hit Nat in the gut as Mara’s scream echoed down the hallway. 

“What is this!?” Mara roared, stomping towards Nat, holding the burlesque flyer in one hand and the vibrator with two fingers in the other. “What filth is this!?”

Nat tried to speak, but the shrieks from her girlfriend killed her excuses before they left her lips. “You yell at me about how alone you are and when I go into your room and see...see this...filth! “ She shook the flyer in her hand a few times. Wisps of smoke began to rise as the edges of the paper darkened. “You were napping all day!? Napping!? Tell me the truth!! How many times did you sully yourself to this image!? How many times did you use that thing on yourself!? When did you even buy it!?”

She raised her hands in surrender. “I can explain. I want to explain. If you would just let me…” 

“I do not want to hear an explanation! I want to hear apologies! I want to hear you repent! I want to hear you say you are coming home!”

Mara waited for a moment but heard nothing. The look of shock and guilt on Natalyaih’s face confirmed her suspicions. “I can’t believe you! Say something! Tell me I’m wrong and you’re not some sinner! That you haven’t laid with this...this...Devil’s spawn of a whore! That you didn’t corrupt yourself with someone of such...such...dirty blood!”

Nat’s head snapped up. The intolerance she knew her people were capable of was coming out of her beloved’s mouth. The surreal moment shifted the ground beneath her feet. Another line crossed. Another bitter reminder of what she was fighting to prove herself against. 

“Get out.” she said softly, and pointed at the door. 

“No! Not until you explain yourself!” Mara shook the flyer a few more times, flecks of hot ash drifting towards her. 

“Get out!” she roared, as a pulse of white light rippled across her skin, and her eyes turned blinding white. “Get out!”

Something heavy slammed into the wall inches from her head. To her side she looked down and saw her new vibrator on the floor, now sharply bent in the middle. One of the motors poked out through the torn silicone skin. A crack now in the drywall from where it hit. 

Mara stood across the room, hands covering her mouth in shock as the charred remnants of the advertisement rained from her fingers. “Nat...I...I didn’t mean to....”

“Go,” was all she needed to say before the other Aasimar bolted from the apartment, slamming the door loudly behind her. 

As the echoes of hurried foot falls and sobs drifted away, Nat slumped to her knees and looked at the broken device and damage done to her apartment. She felt helpless. Even her chances to experience something or test herself, were met with resistance. Even though she hurt Mara with her words, her girlfriend had actually just tried to physically hurt her, when it was clear she wasn’t going to give up her Rumspringa.

Nat stared at her broken toy with dismay. She acknowledged her own faults and lies, but to hear that much intolerance come from Mara’s mouth. To know how her girlfriend truly felt about their future together. That Mara’s loyalty to an oppressive morality, was greater than their bond. Even after all the fighting, all Nat wanted was for Mara to be the most brilliant person she could be. But what if Mara didn’t want the same for Nat? 

A nagging voice in her head nudged her that there was still time to race down to the garage to catch her and apologize, but the truth of the matter kept her rooted where she knelt.

The entire conversation leading up to that point had been the paradoxical loop the couple had found themselves in, since they started to date openly. To be together, they had to change the way things were, but the nature of their castes meant they had to maintain the norm. One of them had to be willing to break the loop, and it was clear that Mara wasn’t. And if it was left to Nat to be the one to be brave and fight the big fights, then what did that mean down the line? 

The mental image of herself twenty years from now sitting in a room while old men and women talked around her and handed her pages of what to say or sign, played in her head. It was a grim mirror of her current experiences with the clinic or even the LGBT Group on campus. It wasn’t her fault that she was both born into this paradox of caste and duty that the only answer to was serving faithfully as a mouthpiece for tradition. There had to be other options and other ways. Something. A third option she hadn’t seen before. 

She looked up at the wrought iron lotus on the wall and sobbed. “I know you leave it to us to interpret your will...and I know you are out there watching. This is a trial for a reason but...but if I am wrong you would tell me, right? Give me a sign? Please…” She sobbed, hoping for something that resembled an answer.

Nothing. 

Mara’s words repeated in her head again and again. _Sinner. Corrupted._ How? How was she a sinner and corrupted when she was trying to help and heal people? She worked tirelessly to give a voice to her peers on campus. She worked herself to a point of exhaustion under restrictive circumstances to keep the thread of life strong within her patients. 

But she was following the rules, and continually failing, until the night a wounded half-orc banged on the clinic door. The night she put a patient ahead of her vows and saved a life. And Shatrava hadn’t struck her down, nor had the church stormed the clinic and hauled her away in the middle of the night.

Looking up at the clock she saw it was nearly 9:30. The broken vibrator caught her attention once more. She laughed bitterly as she picked it up and turned it around in her hands inspecting the damage. “I wish I could fix this at least. At least be able to undo something…whoa!!”

A familiar pulse of energy rippled through her body that she hadn’t felt in about a week. Her magic. 

She looked confused at the Iron Lotus. “Okay...so...you won’t answer me, and they won’t tell me how to make things better, but you leave me with this?” She waved her hands. “Why not just strip us of these powers when we leave the campus? Why make it so I can still do this!?”

A familiar pulse of energy rippled through her body that she hadn’t felt in about a week. The sound of wires and tiny mechanical parts snapping back into place filled the quiet apartment. Nat marveled at silicone skin knitting itself back together. When the golden shimmer of her spell faded, she pressed the power button on it, and felt the strong hum of the vibrator down her arm once more. 

Basking in the moment of selfish relief, she smirked and faced the crack in the drywall. “Or what about this!?” she yelled at the holy symbol, placing her hand over the damage. Once more she watched in amazement as the crack sealed itself. She scanned the room for another test. “Or what about this…”, she looked for the burlesque flyer but found only a small scattering of charred paper across the carpet. 

And like that, the moment was over. She knelt to pick up the ashen remains of her fantasy girl. Nothing made sense right now. Why burden her with all these conflicting vows and oaths, but leave her with the means to help? Why leave the ability to erase pain and illness as some tantalizing forbidden fruit, when it was the exact thing she and her kind were created to do?

More tears of frustration rolled down her cheeks as she closed the garbage can lid with a slam. She shambled to her bedroom where she unceremoniously deposited the vibrator into her underwear drawer before checking the closet for the book. 

To her relief, it was where she left it. Glancing back to her nightstand, she saw the drawer with the charging cable leading to it, still undisturbed. It had only been the flyer and vibrator that caused the fight thankfully. 

“She was right,” she said mirthlessly to the holy necklace on her dresser “It was sex that caused the fight after all.” Feeling the tingle of magic still in her fingers, she knew sleep wasn’t going to be coming soon. She had tapped into that wellspring of power she had missed so much and this time it didn’t feel exhausting. 

She was too wired from the fight and from the magic coursing through her system to read, masturbate, or listen to music. She still needed a distraction though. Looking out the window she saw the glittering lights of “Endib” come alive. Nat imagined how good it would feel to walk around right now in the cool night air, taking in deep breaths and going to find some new adventure to wash away the dirt of “date night.”

A soft breeze from the open window blew past some of the open pages of the book and dislodged some of the business cards, and flyers she had placed in the front cover. Reaching down to pick them up, Nat found the concert flyer that Wali hastily handed her on her way out. 

Her fingers traced the words on the paper as she remembered how empowered she was after listening to all that music. What if she could enjoy it live, some place that wasn’t here? 

“If it was only that easy,” she said to the necklace again. In response, a beeping noise came from the nightstand. Nat carefully lifted it out, tapping through the screens confirming the device had finished programming. The tiny icon of a globe at the top reminded Nat that she had an outside link to the world. 

She flicked through a few screens on the smartphone and found the Maze Car app was already installed. Before she knew what she'd done, the phone confirmed the car was on its way.

=======================================================================

The Kenku driver pulled up slowly to the curb of the 1800 block of Market Street. Nat double checked the address on her phone and stared dumbly out of the window taking in all of the lights and people. She was stunned to see this many people still wandering through the market district at this hour on a Sunday. The excitement of being part of this crowd was dulled by the echo of Mara’s words and her own spiraling thoughts. 

A knock on the roof of the SUV snapped her out of the sad reverie, as the ravenkin driver held out a feather covered hand. _“I’ll pay cash,”_ it echoed back in Nat’s own voice, holding out its phone screen showing a fare of $20.00. 

Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a wad of cash, flipping through the bills and found the smallest she had was a 50. “You make change?”  
  


The driver gave her a withering glare, pointing to a sign on the dashboard stating; _“Cash fares, exact change only.”_

“Oh,” she said with a hint of disappointment. “Um...I guess keep the change.” She passed the money forward and slid out of the car, watching it speed off into the busy streets. 

Nat found herself in front of a windowless building covered in black planks of wood and a decoupage of fading posters. Over the entrance was a thin black sign with “The Screeching Weasel Est. 1928” painted in sloppy white paint. The date on the sign confused her because she was sure that Wali said he owned the club. Had he bought it recently or...just how old was the elf? 

The random question helped melt her nerves enough to start approaching the venue. As she passed by a bus stop, she caught a reflection of herself in the glass. Her white hair was a tangled mess, and her eyes puffy from crying. Her T-shirt and hoodie hung loosely off of her shoulders giving no indication of how fit or curvy she was. Her first time going to a punk show, and she was a wreck inside and out. An urge to call another car hit, but the thought of being back in the apartment made her feel sick.   
  
Pulling open a heavy black wooden door, she met the gaze of a stocky black dragonborn sitting behind a semi-circular desk. He was wearing a black paisley bandana, which poked up where small spines ran down the back of his head. A pair of front facing horns jutted from his forehead, capped with iridescent metal cones that had small rainbow hearts hanging from them. The horns themselves were carved with intricate designs and bits of runic text. A pink triangle pin was prominently displayed from the lapel of his leather jacket along with a wrinkled red and white sticker reading: _Hello My Name is: Elias (He/Him)_

A small smile crossed his face as he looked Nat up and down. “ID?” He asked politely. She fished her identification card out of her pocket, passing it over. 

“Cool.” He passed the card back and flipped open a metal cash box. “10 to get in.”

The Aasimar fished through her pockets. Pulling a hundred free from the stack, she folded it over and passed it to the doorman. The sounds of voices and muted music could be heard from the door next to her. She craned to peek closer, when she heard him clear his throat, and gestured for her to come closer. 

He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Ah..um...sorry but I can’t break this.”

“But...the show is starting soon.”

She caught the dragonborn staring at the blue lotus embroidered on her shirt and pants. “You um...sure you’re in the right place?”

“T-this is where…” she looked up for the flyer on the wall, struggling to remember the band name. “...Rise Against is playing, right? Wali told me I should come and um…I kinda need this right now. You sure?

  
“Yep.” He nodded. “Still early and not enough change. Ya feel me?” He slid the folded bill across the desk towards her. “Also kinda dangerous to be walking around with this.” Nat’s shoulders sunk as she took the money back, and turned to leave. 

“You sure you don’t have other friends coming?” he asked nonchalantly, tugging the money. 

“What?”

“You sure you don’t have friends coming in later? You know. Nice person like you paying ahead for them and all?” 

She cocked her head to the side. “Friends? No. I mean I’m alone and …” She noticed the growing line of people behind her. Suddenly the wad of cash in her pocket felt as heavy as a rock, and every impatient eye threatening.

A clawed finger waved at her rapidly. “Noooo. I mean you have friends coming and are paying ahead for them. Right?” He gave a sly wink and pulled out a pen. “Wanna give me their names for when they come in later?”

She clued in to his meaning and nodded vigorously. “Oh yeah, um...can you keep an eye out for um...Nadal, Pierson, Tiana, and Ma…” The name of her girlfriend froze on her lips. The shame and anger from the fight still felt like a knot in her chest. She couldn’t even say her name. “M-maeve.”

Elias scribbled the names down on the sheet of paper and took the money back. He passed her five 10 dollar bills in return, before pressing a black X on the back of her hand with a rubber stamp.

“What’s this for?”, she asked, turning her hand around in the light.

“If you go out, you show the stamp to get back in. The X means you can’t drink. There’s a water dispenser at the back of the bar unless you want something like soda.” He gave a warm smile. “Enjoy the show.”

She nodded confused, as he gestured towards the door with one of his horns, before turning back to the next person in line. 

Passing through a narrow hallway and an unmanned coat check, she found herself inside of a massive bar with black walls and red cloth panels, covered in flyers and posters for other events. The smell of stale beer and the artificial sticky sweetness of a vape cloud blown in her path filled her nose. Pushing through the white haze, she nearly tripped over a raised section filled with small tables, chairs and a standing bar. She staggered backwards, and bumped into one of the booths dimly lit by wall sconces and floor lighting. 

The burn of anxiety resumed its simmer in her veins. The sounds of conversation fighting with the pounding rock music coming from the PA system made her slightly dizzy. Nat knew all eyes would be on this newcomer stumbling around. She couldn’t face them yet. She needed to center herself. She needed water. Cool Water would help her ground. She kept her head low and followed the line of floor lighting to the bar lining the left wall. Behind it a tall muscular human with long black hair worked quickly uncapping beer bottles, before passing them to customers as he took their cash in a single fluid motion. She fumbled with the money in her pocket as she looked around for the dispenser that Elias mentioned. 

  
  
A blue plastic sports cooler stood on a small table, where the bar ended and the room opened into the concert space. She scurried up to the dispenser, trying not to think about what was making her sneakers stick slightly to the floor, and found an empty space along the wall, clear of other bodies. Filling a paper cup, she gulped back some water, letting the chill fluid slide down her throat, and spread through her chest. After 3 deep breaths she looked back up to assess her surroundings. 

Across the room from her was a table with a bored looking woman hocking t-shirts, cds, and other merchandise. Between them several people milled around talking over the music or bobbing their heads in time to it. At the front of the building was a large stage with a brick archway framing it. Various musical instruments, cables and equipment were being placed by Wali, while other people hauled similar equipment off. She reached out to wave at the elf, but her anxiety reminded her of her strange surroundings. 

A surge of heat passed over her skin again, as she realized only heard of punk rock a week ago, and now she was standing in the middle of a bar about to see a live show. Everything felt like it was moving in fast-forward. Mara’s nagging voice echoed in her head again, accusing her of falling deeper into sin. That everything and everyone outside of church walls was out to tempt her into impure thoughts and acts. 

But that wasn’t the case. The guy at the door stopped her when she was about to leave and helped her cover for her mistake of flashing too much money. He even helped her craft a lie to make being alone less embarrassing, even if it did cost her more to get in. Mara just had a bad experience. That was all. It felt bad dismissing her girlfriend’s trauma but she was wrong. 

Gathering her courage she closed her eyes, and took another deep breath before looking up from the floor. Around Nat were people of all races and genders dressed in torn black and red clothing. Hair or scales styled in a myriad of colors and unique shapes. One halfling woman sported a mohawk nearly half as tall as she was, while the checker-suited orc from the store stood in a group with other similarly attired men and women. She watched a dwarven man with unkempt black hair and a styled goatee share a kiss with a male brass dragonborn, wearing a similarly styled wig, before taking a sip of beer. She remembered Elias’ pink triangle pin and listed pronouns, realizing how open and accepting this place was of queer people. A warm and heavy feeling began to form in her heart as two elvish women with green hair pushed past her holding hands. 

She followed the pair with her eyes, until she was distracted by a pastel purple tail adorned with straps covered in studs and spikes rising above the crowd moving towards her, heralding its owner. 

The Tiefling burlesque dancer from the flyer stepped free of the mass of bodies, wearing black strappy leather boots and a small black mini skirt, with a slit in the back for her tail. Nat tried not to stare at her generous bust, barely contained by a leather corset and ripped t-shirt. Her eyes were red and she had small pointed fangs, which glinted in the low club light. And to the Aasimar’s surprise, she was walking towards her, smiling and waving.

She froze. How did the dancer know her? Did she cast some spell inadvertently when she tried to masturbate earlier? No, that was dumb. Maybe Wali told her about Nat and…no wait that was dumb too. 

The train of panic thoughts came to a screeching halt as the woman walked up and spread her arms for a hug. Nat opened her mouth to speak and waved back nervously, just as the Tiefling leapt past her into the arms of a tall half-giant man with a shaved head covered in tribal tattoos. 

She tried not to stare as they kissed before he set her back down, asking how her day at work was and if she’d heard from the babysitter. As the pair walked back into the crowd, Nat couldn’t help but notice the matching tattoos on their left hands. 

The warm and heavy knot in her chest spread into her throat. It made her feel tight but not in a bad way, as if she was on the cusp of something. She began to crave what the Tiefling dancer had, imagining Mara walking into the club with a studded leather jacket and her pink hair maybe trimmed up into a nice butch cut. As she entered Nat would run out from the crowd wearing a similar outfit maybe...greeting her girlfriend with the same enthusiasm. 

She pinched herself and bit the inside of her cheek. _Like that would ever happen. What am I even doing here?_ she thought to herself. The reality of her career and relationship started to fight with the confusing warm wet mass that got bigger every time she took another step closer towards the stage. She wasn’t like these people. She couldn’t be anything like them. All she was right now was a sad gay girl standing in the middle of a bar wearing baggy church sweatpants. 

Hot tears began to leak from the corners of her eyes, when the crack of an amplifier made her jump. From the stage she could see Wali give an OK signal with his hand before dashing out of sight behind a curtain. The stage lights dimmed and a slow rolling cheer began to build from the front of the room. 

Moments later the four humans dressed in t-shirts and jeans took their places behind drums and microphones, pulling guitars over their heads. She could feel the excitement building in the air around her as the lead singer leaned towards his microphone. 

“We’re Rise Against. This is Injection,” he said before a screeching guitar and drums erupted from the speakers. 

Suddenly the weight in her heart and throat pushed away any thoughts about Mara, the clinic and her clothing. Everything felt right with the world. It was all punk rock and empowerment. 

_You spend your days counting the hours you're awake_

_And when night covers the sky you find yourself doing the same_

_It's a burden you've been burying in spite of all your prayers_

_As the light turns off inside your heart do you remember_

_What it's like to care_

The lyrics cut through her frustration like a hot knife. Each word exposing every feeling she struggled with for the past two months. 

_Knees are weak, hands are shaking, I can't breathe_

She slowly sank to the floor, hands gripping the wall tightly as her inner fire burned away at the last threads of restraint. She knew what she wanted now. She knew what was wrong and it hurt so much to accept the selfish ugly truth of it all. 

_Give me the drug, keep me alive,_ _  
_

_Give me what's left of my life_ _  
_

_Don't let me go_

_Pull this plug, let me breath_ _  
_

_On my own I'm finally free_ _  
_

_Don't let me go_

Hot tears splattered down her shirt as she choked back all of the wordless pain and anger she had been denying herself. She looked up through a veil of messy white hair at these beautiful and powerful looking beings surrounding her. At the front of the stage people pushed and shoved each other, while a few jumped from the speakers into the bouncing mass. At first she thought it was a fight but then she noticed everyone was smiling. They were having fun. Off to the side, the Tiefling woman sang along loudly, banging her head in time with the music. Her partner thrust his hand in the air in time with the beat, eyes closed and face twisted into a mask of pain, similar to her own. 

For the first time in her life, everything inside her felt right as the music and rage cleansed and purified her. Everything the church had taught her felt like vines holding back the last few bits of her true self. If only she could feel that presence of their goddess again. She felt it once when her powers were awoken, and was deemed a Healer of Shatrava. The rush of Divine approval coursing through her veins filled her with a tranquility that she would never forget. A sacred kiss that came from somewhere so far away.

_Guide me through uncharted waters_

_Before we lose our way again_

_Will you be my compass_

_Until forever, until forever ends_

The song screamed past her ears spelling out the secret prayer to her goddess in its most perfect form. “Endib” suddenly felt more like “home”. 

========================================================================  
  


It was nearly midnight when she staggered into the club lobby feeling dehydrated and disheveled but lighter. Elias offered to let her stay inside until her car pulled up and never made mention of her tear-streaked face. Instead he complimented her new black baby-doll tee with the band’s logo printed on the front, as she untied the hoodie wrapped around her waist. She peered back into the club just one last time, hesitant to leave, when he passed her a handful of bills. “Rest of your change. Sorry it took the rest of the night to get. Did you have fun?” 

Breathless and straining to listen through the din of noise behind her, she smiled and nodded. “Ummm huh...thanks um...Elias?” She thumbed through the money baffled. “Not that I’m complaining but...why?”

“We all need a little help from time to time. I’m guessing this was your first show?”

She nodded wide eyed at the dragonborn. 

“Taking that first step into something new is hard. I’m glad I could help you along.” His smile faded into a slight frown. “Just be careful though. Not everyone’s gonna be as friendly or cool. Get me?” 

“Oh.” She looked around the club one more time. “I never thought about it like that. But this is a safe place right?” 

“We like to think it is.” He nodded and extended a hand across the desk. “Hope to see you out again. Just bring a bit less cash okay?” He chuckled as a blue 4-door sedan pulled up to the curb. “I think that’s your ride.” 

As the MazeCar pulled out into traffic, she fished out a CD, an enamel pin and some stickers she purchased from the merch table. As she admired the pin in the passing lights, she was reminded of the moment Vola handed her the Basilisk fang. A trophy of the moment she truly felt like a healer. These were trophies of her first concert. She looked out the window and appreciated the city around her in a brand new light. She didn’t feel dread about going back to the apartment or guilt over any of her adventures that day. Just the fading sting from her fight with Mara.

She knew that what she felt during the show was no fleeting euphoria. It was a divine revelation. Shatrava’s love manifested the moment she surrendered to the music. Her throat was raw from singing along, spelling out her true path in life for the world to hear. She was meant to heal and create a place where all were welcome and cared for. She was meant to erase the division between the church and the outer world. She was meant to have some happiness for herself. 

She just had to be smart about it. Use her own privilege and resources to lay the groundwork, and then maintain these infant lifelines once she returned to the campus. Mara would have to be left in the dark about the clinic and her other interests for now. It's what she wanted after all, for Nat to finally respect her vow of separation and chastity. In return, the Healer could slowly reveal the punk rock doctor she wanted to be to her love and the world. Show her that she could still be the beacon of virtue the church needed but also still be herself. 

Closing her eyes and basking in her moment of relief, she remembered Innani’s request to meet at lunch and discuss the book. Looking at her phone she saw it was only midnight, and didn’t have to be at the clinic until about 6am. The hum of her enchantments resonated from the base of her skull, eager to absorb and organize new knowledge. This would be just like those exciting nights in med school, except now she had better music and the entire internet to help her get through it. 

As her apartment building rolled into view, Nat thought of Vola and all the things she would be able to do for the hunters, and anyone else holding back the dark of this city. What she could do for the queer community and anyone that needed help and healing when the world gave up on them. She prayed they would meet again so she could show the half-orc what she had inspired. What you could accomplish when you opened your mind and tried harder. 

========================================================


End file.
